


What Adam Doesn't Know Won't Hurt Him (Mostly)

by subtlehysteria



Series: Surviving Space With Your Ex-Fiancé [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adopted Sibling Shenanigans, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'll add tags as I go along, Multi, Pining Keith (Voltron), Season 7 Spoilers, Space Caterpillars - Freeform, Space Gays doing Space Gay things, Team Bonding, Team as Family, major series spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 00:16:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlehysteria/pseuds/subtlehysteria
Summary: While Adam has a lot on his hands, the team gets up to their own shenanigans behind the scenes. There is laughter and crying and comfort but most importantly, there is a friendship that later blooms into something more.Join the Space Fam in their behind the scenes adventures and mishaps, featuring space caterpillars, heartfelt talks and overall mayhem.





	1. White Noise

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as _Surviving Space_ is mostly from Adam's POV, I've decided to make a sort of deleted scenes fic for all the in-between bits we don't get to see. Some are canon, some are just for fun. This is more for the team coming closer together than ship-related, although that may change as we delve deeper into the series.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance can't sleep.
> 
> Set after Part 1, Chapter 2: Rise of the Giant Mecha Cats Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pidge hasn't revealed her identity yet, hence Lance using he/him pronouns for her.

There was too much silence.

Lance punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape before flopping down on it. When that didn’t work, he flipped onto his stomach, one leg angled for the perfect sleeping position. But it wasn’t working. Nothing was working.

Lance sat up with a groan, picking up his phone to check the time.

12:02 AM Earth time.

“Shit.”

Lance flung his blankets to the side, scooting out of bed. He fumbled for the slippers he’d managed to find in the cupboard of his room, slipping in one foot and then the other.

He didn’t really have a destination in mind as he started wandering the Castle. He just needed a distraction, something to keep him occupied.

The silence was getting to him. He was so used to hearing the TV in the background, a conversation between his parents or siblings, the radio, someone putting a midnight snack together in the kitchen. There was never any quietness in the Sanchez home, and Lance had learned to love it; live off it.

When he’d first arrived at the Garrison, it had been a big change. When lights out was called, it was like someone had put noise-cancelling headphones on the entire premises. Not a sound. Not so much as a whisper.

Each student was given a singular dorm room. It was tiny, but at least Lance could make the space his own. He’d strung up fairy lights around his bed, stuck his favourite pictures of him and his family and friends back in Cuba, fitted his bed with his favourite blue sheets. But he couldn’t bring the noise with him, that familiar crackle of their Jurassic-age TV, mama laughing at another one of papa’s lame jokes. He missed it, desperately.

They were busy listening to sound recordings of the planets in their solar system when he got the idea. He asked his sister, Rachel, to set up her phone in the lounge and hit record for the entire night. She’d been put off about it at first but did as he asked in exchange for him doing her chores during Christmas break.

She’d sent the recording the next day and when Lance had tested it through his earphones, it was like magic. He felt instantly at home. He slept perfectly that night, and every night after. He’d do his skincare routine, plug in his earphones, put on his sleep mask and he’d be out like a light in ten minutes flat.

Lance sighed now as he turned another corner of the Castle. If only he’d had his earphones on him the night they escaped the Garrison.

_Wait._

Pidge. Pidge had –

Lance did an about turn, sprinting back to the sleeping quarters.

Pidge was a mess when he opened his doors. His tawny hair put any bird’s nest to shame, his pyjama pants hiked up one calf and tucked into a lone sock on the other. He smacked his lips and his nose wrinkled in displeasure when he saw him.

“What?” he grouched.

“Can I borrow your headphones?” Lance asked.

“What?”

Lance groaned. For a kid genius, Pidge could a be a little slow on the uptake. “Your headphones? May I please borrow them?” Lance batted his eyelashes for good measure, pouting his lips the way that always got him what he wanted.

Pidge studied him, having to squint without his glasses. He then heaved a sigh and disappeared back into his room. For a second, Lance thought he was dismissing him, but then Pidge returned, his headphones dangling from one finger. Lance was about to take them when Pidge pulled them back out of reach. “These are my gaming headphones,” Pidge said slowly, a sweet smile growing from ear to ear. “If you break them,” he said, tone a little airy for Lance’s liking, “you will sorely regret it.”

Lance nodded. Pidge may be on the short side, but after their little incident with Pidge’s bayard, Lance knew not to mess with him. “You got it,” he said.

With a final grumble, Pidge offered his headphones. Lance snatched them, cradling them to his chest. “Thank you! I owe you one, Pidgeon!”

“Call me that again and you’ll lose a finger.”

Lance scampered away before Pidge could see his promise through.

When he arrived back in his room, Lance chucked Pidge’s headphones on his messed-up bed, running into his bathroom. He’d been too exhausted to do his skincare routine, but now it was a must. Before everyone had signed off for the evening, Lance had asked Coran if they had any beauty supplies. Apparently, there was an entire closet full. Lance didn’t need to be told twice that he could use whatever he wanted.

Now, he slathered on the peach-smelling facemask, making sure none of it got into his hair before trotting back into the main room. He plugged the headphones into his phone, slid on his sleep mask and pressed play.

A crackle of the TV.

Quiet conversation.

Laughter.

The kettle boiling.

Waves crashing.

A car’s engine spluttering.

A dog barking.

Squeaky floorboards.

A whispered, “Goodnight.”

_Home_ , Lance thought before slipping into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQL53eQ0cNA) is the sound recordings Lance remembers from the Garrison. NASA made sound recordings of each planet in the Milky Way. They are all unique to their planets and some of them are weird but it's still kinda fascinating.


	2. Call Me Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk makes a phone call.
> 
> Set after Part 1, Chapter 8: The Castle's Haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Hunay for the soul

Hunk was panicking.

Okay, he wasn’t _panicking_ -panicking but he was really nervous and had already felt like he was going to throw up three times and what if she didn’t want to talk to him and –

The connection went through. An image of Shay popped up on Hunk’s phone screen.

“Hey, Shay!” Hunk said, giving an awkward wave and trying not to wince as his voice squeaked.

“Greetings Hunk!” Shay said. She beamed up at him, her smile brighter than any Balmeran crystal.

_Hoooo boy._

“Hi,” Hunk said again, for lack of words.

Shay giggled. “You have said that already.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just… I’m happy to see you.”

Shay giggled again, golden eyes glistening with mirth. “I feel the same. How are you?”

Hunk scratched his head in thought. “Well besides the fact that we nearly died at the hands of an evil crystal, things have been going okay-ish.”

Shay baulked at the statement, earrings jangling as she leaned in. “What? Pray tell?”

Hunk loved how she spoke. It was like listening to Shakespeare if Shakespeare was performed by giant rock people…

“Well… I don’t want to bore you –”

“You could never do such a thing,” Shay said, matter-of-fact.

Hunk felt his cheeks begin to warm. He chuckled nervously. “That’s nice of you to say.”

Shay’s own cheeks darkened, blooming a surprising gold. “Tis the truth.”

They stayed like that, neither saying anything, yet never breaking eye contact.

Shay was the first to break the spell. “So… this crystal you spoke of?”

Hunk blinked, coming back to himself. “Right! Right, so back when we first left Arus –”

Hunk lost track of time as he began to tell the story, having to explain the whole Sendak-taking-over-the-Castle thing before he could launch into the real story. When he got to the part about his and Pidge’s ambush on the food goo machine, Shay couldn’t stop laughing. The sound was like tinkling bells and Hunk had nearly keeled over at how gorgeous it was.

Shay listened intently throughout the rest of his story-telling, asking questions in between that Hunk was more than willing to answer. When he finally finished, his throat was dry, voice a little husky from all the non-stop talking, but it was so worth it to see Shay’s shining smile.

“And what about you?” Hunk asked. “How is the Balmera doing?”

“Our great beast is faring well!” Shay said. “No Galra have returned and the crystals grow more beautiful each day.”

 _So do you,_ Hunk wanted to say. But he didn’t because saying that meant saying other stuff and Hunk wasn’t really ready to do that yet. Shay was sweet and brave and Hunk admired that. But he wanted to get to know her properly; be friends. And if something more came of it, then…

“Gran-gran told me to tell you are more than welcome to visit whenever you like,” Shay continued. “She misses you.”

Hunk chuckled. “Yeah, her stew was… something.”

“I could give you the recipe if you like?” Shay said.

Hunk smiled politely. “Uh, yeah! You sure she won’t mind sharing it?”

Shay waved him off. “When it comes to you? Not at all.”

Hunk’s cheeks were beginning to burn. He probably looked like an over-cooked lobster right about now. If he did, Shay said nothing of it.

“Shay, it is time to depart. You must sleep!”

Shay blew a raspberry, rolling her eyes fondly. “That would be Rax.”

Hunk nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s always been a stickler for the rules, huh?”

Shay leaned in, whispering conspirator-like. “He can also be quite the bully-rook when it comes to games.”

Hunk had no idea what that meant by Shay’s sly wink made him laugh all the same.

“I must take leave,” she said, shoulders drooping a little. “But perhaps we may speak again soon?”

Hunk nodded in enthusiastically. “Oh yeah, definitely! We might be a little busy right now, but I’ll let you know as soon as possible!”

Shay smiled, her cheeks dusted with that shining gold once more. “I shall wait in anticipation, then. Fare thee well.”

“Good night,” Hunk said, unable to hold back a grin.

Shay waved before her image blinked out.

Hunk sank back against his headboard, grinning like an idiot. It was well past four in the morning and he needed to be up in two hours but he didn’t care.

It was worth it. When it came to Shay, it would always be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bully-rook is Shakesperean slang meaning a cheater who likes to boast. Rax isn't as much of a goodie-two-shoes as he would like you to believe ;)


	3. Cry For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coran and Allura share a quiet moment.
> 
> Set after Part 1, Chapter 8: The Castle’s Haunted

It’s the crying that gave her away.

Coran was patrolling the halls, as one was wont to do when he heard the soft sobs. His ears flickered, homing in on the sound. He followed it down one twisting hall after another until he came face to face with the simulation room. Alfor’s AI chamber…

Coran stepped through the sliding door, finding Allura sitting on the pedestal. Her knees were drawn to her chest, head tucked away. There were still remnants of King Alfor’s memory container at her feet.

“Princess?” Coran said, softly, not to startle her.

Allura’s sobbing ceased, her head shooting up. She immediately wiped away her tears, sniffling. “Oh, Coran. Hello. How may I help you?”

Coran gave a quiet huff, shaking his head fondly. Ever the princess, doing her duty.

Coran picked his way across the floor, minding the glass until he was standing in front of Allura. “I think the better question is, how may I help you?”

Allura sniffled again, her crystal-blue eyes becoming watery. A tear slipped down her cheek. “I – I don’t think you can.”

Coran shuffled closer, making to sit next to her until he heard an indignant _Squeak!_

Coran jumped up with an exclamation of “Quiznak!”

Staring up at him were the mice, all looking rather put-off with him.

Allura let out a laugh, despite the tears staining her cheeks. “You lot should be more careful,” she said, beckoning the mice to her. She lowered her knees, allowing the mice to gather in her lap. Coran, having made sure all mice were accounted for, sat down again. He placed a comforting arm around Allura’s shoulder. “Something on your mind, Princess?”

Allura stroked the mice, giving them each a small scratch behind the ears. “Father… I just… his AI, it made it a little easier to cope. I knew, in my heart, it wasn’t him, that it couldn’t be him. But it was still a source of comfort. It’s only really sinking in now, however that – that –”

Allura muffled her sobs with a hand over mouth, trying to blink away her tears. Coran gently guided her head to his shoulder, holding her tightly. It brought back fond memories: a much younger, yet no less determined, Allura running to Coran with scraped knees and hands because “Father told me not to climb the Castle wall, but I didn’t listen and can you please help me?” She clung to his leg, tears staining his pants because she was so afraid of disappointing her father. Coran gathered her into his arms, balancing her on his hip as he carried her back to the Castle. All the while, he hummed an off-tune to calm her down. He cleaned up her scrapes, put ointments and bandages where needed and promised not to tell King Alfor.

“It’ll be our little secret,” he said with a wink.

Allura smiled, missing baby teeth making it all the more adorable. She tackled him with a hug, some of her long, silvery hair making its way into his mouth.

“Thank you, Uncle Coran!” she said before scampering off, probably to get into more trouble like she always did.

Now, Coran rubbed soothing circles on Allura’s back, providing the best comfort he could. He didn’t really know what to say. He was meant to be her advisor, meant to have speeches at the ready, comforting and inspiring words constantly poised on the tip of his tongue.

But he had nothing. Could say nothing.

“He’s gone, Coran. He’s really, truly gone,” Allura said, barely above a whisper.

Coran felt a stinging sensation behind his eyes, could feel the wetness beginning to gather. He tried to hold them back, tried to stay strong for Allura’s sake. But when the first tear streaked down his cheek, the dam broke. And so did he.

“Coran?”

“I’m fine,” Coran said, sniffing back the tears, salt water dripping down the back of his throat. He coughed, chest sputtering.

He felt two arms wrap around him, squeezing just the right amount to be comforting. The tears came and they came and all Coran could do was embrace them.

Allura held him, the two waiting out their grief.

When Coran felt a little more composed, he sat up, looking to Allura. She blinked up at him, a few stray tears gathered in her eyelashes. Coran wiped them away, just like he did for the little girl all those years ago.

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Allura said, chuckling wetly.

“Yes, I dare say we are.”

Allura pulled away, using the heel of her palm to clean the tear tracks off her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Coran found himself saying.

Allura tilted her head in confusion. “Why?”

“I don’t know what to say, to help you.”

A light hand rested on his forearm. “You don’t have to say anything, Coran. Your presence is more than enough.”

Coran didn’t think so. He was her advisor, and yet he had nothing to say, no words of encouragement or confidence. All he could offer was his own sadness, his own heartbreak at the realization that they were gone, _he_ was gone.

At Coran’s silence, Allura said, quietly, “I’ve always considered you as a second father.”

A small gasp escaped Coran’s lips. He looked to Allura, finally meeting her eyes. “You… you do?”

Allura nodded, giving a hesitant smile. “Of course, Coran. You’ve been there for me throughout so much, have cared for me where others would have only done their job. I appreciate it. I appreciate you. I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

Coran’s lip wobbled and fresh tears sprung from his eyes. Only, they were not tears of grief. They were tears of joy, of a new-found revelation that makes one’s heart sing.

“You really mean that?”

“Yes!” Allura chuckled, pulling Coran into a bone-crushing hug. “Of course I do.”

Coran returned the hug, embracing Allura. Some of her hair got stuck in his mouth and he was tired and a little heart-sore, but knowing that Allura was here, safe in his arms… well. That made him the happiest man in the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Space Uncle deserves all the love <3


	4. Just Bro Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is trying not to think too hard about his near-death experience with the airlock. Keith needs to clear his head. They help each other.
> 
> Set after Part 1, Chapter 8: The Castle’s Haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on @catchingsunrays' amazing artwork which you can find [ here ](https://catchingsunraysart.tumblr.com/post/180311093448/midnight-conversations). Their art is awesome guys, please go give her some love!

“Lance?”

Lance startled. Jumping to his feet, he reached for his bayard only to find Keith watching him from the shadows.

Lance dropped his hand, huffing in annoyance. “Jeez, give a guy some warning!”

“I thought I did?”

Lance crossed his arms, glaring at Keith through the shadows. “Yeah, well you kinda missed the target there. buddy. And stop creeping in the dark, you’re freaking me out!”

Hesitantly, Keith stepped out from his hiding spot, entering the small pocket of light the sconce on the wall provided.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asked, leaning against the wall like he was wont to do.

Lance copied him, settling onto the balcony wall that overlooked the entrance hall of the Castle. “I could ask you the same question.”

Keith clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Do you always have to make things so difficult?”

“Chill man, I’m just asking,” Lance said, raising his hands in defence. Keith’s face was covered in a mix of harsh light and shadows, his bangs only adding to the mess. Yet somehow, Keith’s piercing gaze still got to Lance, no problem.

“Sorry,” Keith grumbled, “Just… Never mind.”

Lance folded his arms once more, considering Keith. He was closed off, as usual, ducking his head to hide behind his bangs and if Lance squinted, he could see Keith rubbing his thumb and index finger together.

 _Soothes him,_ a very Adam-like voice reminded him.

Was Keith… nervous? Agitated? Honestly, Lance couldn’t tell the difference most of the time. He was pretty good when it came to reading body language, but Keith was a closed book, locked by a seemingly unbreakable chain. That hadn’t stopped Lance from trying, even way back at the Garrison. Keith was stubborn, yes, but consider this: Lance was stubborner (that’s a word, right?) Anyway, cracking Keith’s walls down had become a sort of mission to Lance. He wasn’t nosey, not like Hunk, but rather… concerned? Yeah, concerned. Even though Keith got on his nerves more often than not, there was still something about him that made Lance want to get to know him. It was infuriating, but no less demanding in the back of his brain.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Lance said.

Keith stopped his fidgeting, chin lifting to meet Lance’s eyes. “I couldn’t sleep and I wasn’t really in the mood to train so… I decided to take a walk.”

Ah, right. The Castle’s malfunction had led to Keith battling it out with a rogue gladiator. In a way, Lance was thankful for that. If Keith hadn’t been there fighting that bot, then Lance might not have made it out of –

“Why are you here?” Keith asked, words stilted, but at least he was trying.

“Um,” Lance said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I couldn’t sleep either.”

“…Okay.”

Lance found himself pouting, giving a huff of annoyance. “That’s it? Okay?”

“Well, yeah?” Keith said. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, then fine.”  
“Well, maybe I do!” Lance retorted.

“Okay then, talk!”

“I will!”

But he didn’t. We willed the words to appear but they refused. Maybe it was because it was Keith. Maybe it was because, for once, he couldn’t find the words.

Keith sighed, although it wasn’t irritated more… resigned.

Lance’s knee began to jiggle. He placed a hand on his thigh, stilling it. And then, after an extremely prolonged awkward silence, only then did the words come.

“I keep having nightmares about the airlock.”

Keith said nothing. Lance figured that was the go-ahead to keep talking. “I just… it was a close call, man. If you hadn’t shown up, I might not be here right now which is kinda scary.”

Keith nodded, slow, considering. “Well… I’m glad you’re not, uh, floating through space right now.”

“Thanks… I think?”

“You’re welcome.”

_Just say it. Get it over with it._

“Thanks also, for saving my life.”

“… you’re welcome.” This time it was soft, barely audible if it wasn’t for the unsettling silence of the Castle.

Lance tapped out a random rhythm on his thighs, trying to think on how to keep the conversation going. But honestly? He had nothing.

Keith pushed off the wall, standing awkwardly. “I think I’m gonna –” he said, indicating with his thumb over his shoulder.

“Yeah, right!” Lance said, giving a cough. “Uh, goodnight.”

Keith nodded before starting down the hallway. He had long disappeared into the shadows, but Lance swore he heard a quiet _sleep well_ in return.


	5. Pest Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Voltron becomes acquainted with Pidge’s pet caterpillars
> 
> Set After Part 2, Chapter 1: Where Fore Art Thou, Imbeciles?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the space caterpillars and they deserve more screen time so here ya go

**i**

“Pidge… what are those?”

Pidge froze in her pilot seat, eyes slowly creeping up to the chat screen that had opened up in her lion. Adam was glaring down at her over the frames of his glasses.

“What are what?” Pidge asked, trying to play innocent, although they both knew she was anything but – spending time with Adam inevitably had that effect.

Adam leaned forward, glare intensifying as he pointed to something over Pidge’s shoulder. “What. Are. Those?”

Slowly, Pidge looked behind her to see the junk-look-a-likes she had made of her friends. She let out a sigh of relief before quickly recovering herself, trying to act cool and collected – because that was totally a natural state for Pidge, uh huh.

“Oooooh,” she said, turning back to look at Adam. “Those are some sculptures I made.”

Adam squinted. “Is that supposed to be me?”

Pidge looked to the offending dummy Adam was pointing at. Its head was on the large side, scrap wire twisted together to create rectangular frames. It had a cute button nose with a wide gaping mouth. AKA, the perfect replicate of one Adam Wadekar.

“Mayhaps,” Pidge said, giving Adam a sly grin.

“Don’t ‘mayhaps’ me, you little gremlin! You – WHAT IS THAT?!”

Pidge grabbed her bayard, activating her grappling hook and aiming it to the supposed intruder, only to find no one in the cockpit.

“What are you talking about?” Pidge asked, still on high alert.

Adam’s eyes were fixed to a point above Pidge’s head. Slowly, she tilted her chin up to find Newt looking down at her innocently.

Pidge deactivated her bayard, smiling up at Newt. “Oh, this is my friend!”

Adam’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Friend?”

Pidge nodded, reaching for Newt to give them a scratch under the chin. They trilled, the blue markings on their cheeks glowing. “Yeah, they’re a space caterpillar! Or, well, that’s what I’m calling them. They lived in the junkyard I crashed landed in!”

“So you thought it was a good idea to bring one home?” Adam said, voice accusing.

Pidge waved him off. “Pfft, no. I brought two!”

Right on cue, Leo floated up to Pidge’s shoulder, yellow fur poofing up as she gave them a stroke.

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding down what looked to be Shiro’s chair on the bridge until his head nearly hit the seat. “Of course you did.”

Pidge worried at her bottom lip, eyes dancing between Adam and her new friends. “You’re not gonna tell on me, are you?”

Adam considered her for a moment, lips pinched before he blew a raspberry in defeat. “No, I’m not.”

Pidge pumped a fist in the air, nearly knocking Leo off his perch in the process. “Yes! Thank you, Adam!”

Adam waggled a finger at her, “If anyone asks, they’re your contraband. I didn’t agree to any of this.”

Pidge made a cross above her heart. “Promise.”

Adam nodded in approval. “They’re kinda cute. Do they always stare at you though?”

Pidge shrugged. “Yeah, you get used to it.”

Adam hummed. “Alright then. I’ll see you in a bit.” He signed off, his screen blinking out and leaving Pidge alone with her contraband caterpillars.

“Well…” Pidge said, looking to Leo and Newt. “That went well.”

**ii**

Everything was going according to plan.

Pidge had Newt and Leo wait in the Green Lion until everyone had gone off to bed before she went back to fetch them. Unfortunately, she didn’t own a trench coat, otherwise, this whole sneaking-perhaps-illegal-fauna-onto-the-Castle thing would have been a lot easier. It also might have stopped her from running smack-bang into Allura without a way of disguising said illegal fauna.

Allura stumbled, looking down to Pidge, whose feet had suddenly decided to become cinderblocks. Allura’s ears twitched in question, her eyes then landing on Pidge’s two compatriots on either of her shoulders.

And then she screamed.

“PIDGE WHAT ARE THOSE!”

“THEY’RE JUST SPACE CATERPILLARS!” Pidge yelled back.

Allura’s face scrunched up in disgust. She pointed a shaky finger at the caterpillars. “THEY ARE VERMIN! GET THEM OUT OF HERE AT ONCE!”

Pidge stomped her foot, crossing her arms and giving a good old-fashion puppy dog pout. “BUT _ALLURA!_ ”

“No! I will not – what are you doing with your face?”

Pidge’s pout grew exponentially, tears beginning to gather in her eyes. Allura looked absolutely horrified.

“Stop that!” she said.

Pidge only persisted, tears begging to spill over. Leo and Newt must have caught on because they floated to either side of her cheeks, smooshing her in an adorable fluffy sandwich of pleading.

Allura’s bottom lip wobbled before she gave a groan of defeat. “Alright! You can keep them! Just please, stop with that face! You look like I just mercilessly kicked a pufflemonger.”

Pidge sniffed, tears instantly disappearing. “Don’t know what those are, but okay. Thanks, Allura!” Pidge hurried down the hall before Allura could change her mind, Leo and Newt trailing behind her.

Once they made it to the safety of her bedroom, Pidge leaned against her door, a little out of breath and with a big grin on her face. She raised a fist. “Nice going, guys.”

Leo and Newt shared a look before individually nudging their heads to Pidge’s fist in solidarity.

 _Heh,_ Pidge thought as she snuggled down with her new bunk buddies in her ever-messy bed. _Works every time._

**iii**

It was just the usual midnight snack run if that included sneaking two partially-illegal space caterpillars into the kitchen to feed them their daily dose of food goo.

Pidge was currently sitting on the kitchen counter, sockless on one foot, hair probably a mess, spoon-feeding Leo and Newt.

She didn’t know why, but for some reason, they didn’t understand the concept of eating out of a bowl. They demanded to be spoon fed. Pidge had learned the hard way. They gave this high-pitched, ear-piercing squealing noise the first time Pidge tried to persuade them to feed themselves. Suffice to say, she had learned her lesson.

Leo finished with their spoonful, Pidge scraping her spoon through her bowl of food goo and having a bite herself before offering up the next glob to Newt. That was when Hunk entered.

He froze upon seeing Pidge and the caterpillars. For a second, Pidge thought he had stopped functioning, but then Hunk’s eyes began to widen to the size of saucers, his mouth forming the biggest sunshine-smile she had ever witnessed.

“Oh. My. STARS! THEY ARE ADORABLE!” he said, running to Pidge and stopping short of barreling into her. Newt and Leo flew into Pidge’s hair, hiding in the bird’s nest from Hunk’s probably very intimidating size.

Pidge placed her bowl on the counter, raising her hands. “Hunk. Calm down.”

Hunk took a deep breath, although he was still bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyeing Pidge’s hair with great rapture.

“Can I hold one?” he asked.

“If you quit scaring them, then maybe,” Pidge said.

Hunk stopped his bouncing, taking a step back. He shrunk in on himself. “Oh, sorry little guys,” he said, addressing Pidge’s hair.

Pidge could hear Leo and Newt tittering to themselves as if having a very serious discussion. Then, slowly, Newt putt-putted out of the safety of Pidge’s hair and approached Hunk.

Hunk held his breath, remaining still as a statue as Newt came face-to-face with him. Newt stared at him, unblinking.

Hunk looked helplessly to Pidge. “Uhhhh what do I do?” he whispered.

“They’re sizing you up,” Pidge explained. “Just give ‘em a minute.”

Hunk nodded, turning his gaze back to Newt’s unblinking stare.

After a minute of this, Newt must have come to the conclusion that Hunk would not, in fact, eat and/or harm them as they closed the distance between them, rubbing against Hunk’s cheek. Hunk instantly melted, his hand coming up to scratch Newt on their head.

“Oh. My. _Gosh_ ,” he whispered, looking to Pidge in amazement. Leo floated out of Pidge’s hair, perching on her shoulder and watching Newt. Leo was the shiest of the two, Newt being a little more inquisitive and outgoing.

“What’s their names?” Hunk asked, giggling as Newt slid under his chin.

“The green one’s Newt, as in Isaac Newton,” Pidge said, pointing to Hunk’s cuddle buddy, “and this little guy is Leo, as in Galileo.”

“Cuuuuuute!” Hunk said, although most of his attention was on giving Newt scratches. Pidge smiled to herself, enjoying the display until Hunk’s fingers edged down to Newt’s stomach.

“No, wait! Don’t!”

“SHIT!”

Pidge winced, Hunk staring down at his ruined shirt front in horror. A foul smell began filling the room. Pidge pinched her nose shut. “Yeah… they don’t like belly rubs.”

“Now you tell me!”

**iv**

“Hey Pidgeon, can I get those head–” Lance stopped in his tracks, looking between Pidge and the two caterpillars who were currently getting a bath.

“Uhhh, what’s goin’ on in here?” Lance said, leaning in the bathroom doorway, eyebrow arched in question.

Pidge huffed, blowing a piece of fringe out of her face. “Well, I’m _trying_ to give these guys their bath but _someone_ is being difficult!” She scowled at Leo, who was currently half covered in bubbles. They promptly vibrated, the suds flying directly onto Pidge’s glasses.

She heard a snicker behind her, a phone camera going off.

“Don’t encourage them!” she moaned.

“I’m sorry!” Lance said, even as he stepped into the bathroom to get a better angle, “It’s just… this is adorable. I’ve never seen you all domestic.”

“I am not domestic!” Pidge said, slamming a fist into the pool of water in her sink and causing half of it to spill onto the bathroom floor.

Pidge groaned forehead thunking onto the edge of her sink. “This is hopeless.” She tilted her head to the side, sink edge digging into her temple as she looked up at Lance. “They won’t sit still. As soon as I get Newt to behave, Leo escapes the sink and vice versa! Bae Bae was never this difficult…”

“Who’s Bae Bae?” Lance asked, finally putting his phone away.

“The family dog, although technically he’s mine. I picked him out when I was like… two? Maybe three.” Pidge straightened up, pouting down at Newt and Leo who didn’t look the least bit ashamed of their bad bath behaviour. “I refused to leave the shelter until we adopted him.”

“Have you always been this stubborn?” Lance asked with a chuckle.

Pidge grinned. “Absolutely. There’s a reason I wear the pants in the siblingship.”

“Siblingship?”

“Sibling relationship, with my… brother.” Pidge tapered off, good mood dropping instantly. “He’s five years older than me, but we always got along growing up. He was… he always just went with the flow. If I wanted to go chasing fairies in the backyard he’d gather all the required materials – jars, butterfly nets, cake – and we’d make a whole expedition of it. It was the perfect amalgamation of science and childhood fantasy.” Pidge sighed at the memory, at how seriously Matt had taken their search. He treated it as if they were on the brink of discovering a new species. He had been the one to teach her how to write code, how to build her own laptop, how to make robots and hack into the Garrison. He’d taught her so much, had opened her eyes to the world of science. And in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

“Hey.” Pidge felt a hand placed softly between her shoulder blades. She looked up to find Lance smiling down at her, genuine and fond. “We’re gonna get him back. If anyone can find their lost brother out in space, it’s your stubborn ass.”

Pidge huffed a laugh, sniffling a little to fight back the tears. “Yeah, I just… I hate not knowing where he is.”

Lance nodded, guiding Pidge to lean against his side. He squeezed her tightly to him. Slowly, she draped her arms around his waist, returning the embrace.

“How about this,” Lance said. “I wash the green critter while you get the yellow one?”

Pidge blinked up at him, her mouth parting in surprise. “You’ll help me?”

“Of course!” Lance said, rolling up the sleeves of his nightgown. “Anything for my little green gremlin.” The way Lance said it, however, sounded like something more special, just like how Matt used to say _Anything for my little sister._

Pidge didn’t call him out on it though. Instead, she pushed her sleeves back up and met Lance’s eyes with cold, hard determination. These caterpillars were going to be squidgy-clean by the end of the night.

“Let’s do this thing.”

**v**

“Pidge, I was wondering if… what are you doing?”

Pidge looked up from her workstation, scooting her goggles up onto her forehead to better see Shiro. He stood in the doorway to Green’s hangar, staring with a strange look on his face.

“Oh, hi,” she said. “I’m just working on a prototype for Rover 2.O.” Flipping her goggles down, she continued with her work.

“Uhhh…” Shiro said, inching over to her. “Who’s your friends?”

Pidge sighed, pushing her goggles up once more. She used her thumb to indicate the fluff balls resting on her shoulder and in her hair. “Newt and Leo. They’re space caterpillars.”

“Uh huh,” Shiro said, eyeing them warily. “And… what are they doing here?”

“I adopted them from the junk pile I crash landed on,” Pidge said with a shrug. “They got really attached to me and, being the generous person I am, I decided to take them under my wing.”

“You couldn’t resist, could you?”

“NO!” Pidge sighed, hanging her head in shame and nearly dismounting Leo in the process. “I mean, look at them, Shiro! They. Are. _Adorable_. Like, Beezer level adorable.”

Shiro arched a curious brow. “I thought you hated Beezer after he betrayed us?”

“I do,” Pidge said, clenching her hand into a fist. “But that doesn’t make him any less adorable.”

Shiro shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Riiight. Anyway, I was going to ask if that translation I sent you was finished processing?”

Pidge dropped the tool she was currently using (a hybrid of a screwdriver and a miniature welding machine) and turned to her laptop, tapping in a passcode that was probably ten letters too complicated before scrolling to the latest translation through her ALT.

“Yep, it’s done. I can send it to your datapad if you like?”

“Great, thanks Pidge. Really appreciate it,” Shiro said, giving her hair a ruffle – minding Leo – before turning back towards the exit.

“Hey, wait,” Pidge said, causing Shiro to stop short. “Is this,” she squinted at her screen. “Is this poetry?”

“What? No!” Shiro blurted far too quickly to not be suspicious.

Pidge continued scrolling through the translation, speed reading the lines of roughly-translated Altean. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

Shiro hung his head low, rubbing at his temples. “Please don’t tell Adam.”

Pidge considered Shiro’s pleading look before slowly grinning to herself. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said with a sigh of relief.

“If!” Pidge continued, “We get to sleep in an hour late tomorrow morning.”

Shiro’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? We have training in the morning!”

“Well, if you don’t want the extra hour, I guess that’s fine. Besides, I’m sure Adam would love to hear some of these sweet, sweet sonnets you’ve got here,” Pidge said, picking a line at random and beginning to recite it. “‘Oh, how I love thee, my darling juneberry bud. No flow’r could compare to such a beauty as thee’.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“‘The apples of thy cheeks bloom a rosy red, ready for the picking’, ooooh, kinky,” Pidge said, waggling her eyebrows.

“Fine! You get to sleep in tomorrow!”

“And no running laps in training!”

“Pidge!”

“‘Can I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou aren’t more lovely’ – wait is this Shakespeare?”

“Okay, enough. Yes, to the extra hour and we won’t run laps.”

Pidge sent the translation through to Shiro’s datapad before closing the tab, smiling all the while. “Knew you’d see it my way.”

Shiro turned on his heel, stomping to the exit as he grumbled something along the lines of _gremlin_ and _space dad_ and _sucks_ under his breath.

Once Shiro was clearly gone, Pidge re-opened the tab, typing in a new recipient and clicking send.

She leaned back in her chair, hands locked behind her head, waiting.

A few minutes passed before a _ding!_ went off. Pidge pulled out her phone, finding a new notification from Adam.

 **aDAMN:** I love you

 **spacebirb:** enjoy sleeping in tomorrow morning ;)

With that, Pidge tucked her phone away and got back to work on Rover 2.O.

**vi**

“Coran, I don’t think this is necessary.”

“Oh, nonsense!”

Pidge was passed another toy which gave an alarming honking noise when squeezed.

“Really,” she said, subtly chucking it to the other side of the room. “Newt and Leo are already happy with the first toys you gave me.”

Coran stopped his scrounging through the trunk he had pulled out of goodness knows where, hair in disarray. “Oh… are you sure?”

Pidge started nodding but at Coran’s disappointed look, she stopped. She pinched her lips together, trying to stay strong. But then Coran’s ears drooped and even his moustache looked like it was wilting in disheartenment and _fucking quiznack!_

“Actually,” Pidge said, just as Coran was beginning to close the trunk. “I’m sure they could use one or two more.”

Coran’s spirits immediately lifted, his moustache quivering in excitement. “Oh well, I have just the thing!” He dove head-first back into the trunk, throwing out toy after toy in search of something specific.

He was humming a strange tune during his search and Pidge may or may not be smiling because she kinda cared about their weird space uncle, okay?

“Which do you think?” Coran asked, pulling up two nearly identical toys except for the fact that one was spotted pink, and the other a barely-shade-darker.

“Uhhh,” Pidge said, looking to Newt and Leo, who had been no help whatsoever in choosing their supposed ‘of the utmost importance’ toys. “Newt says the one on the left,” Pidge finally said.

Coran looked at the light-pink-spotted toy, eyeing it closely before chucking it over his shoulder. “No, this one is better,” he said, offering up the chosen toy.

Pidge tried to take it, but her hands were currently full of other toys ranging from all sizes, shapes and textures. Coran, realizing her struggle, placed the toy precariously on top of the pile.

“There!” he said, clasping his hands together in glee. “Perfect!”

Pidge nodded, even though she could barely see over the pile. “Thanks, Coran!”

She was about to start shuffling out the door when Coran stopped her. “Actually, I think there’s one more –”

**vii**

Keith was about ready to conk out after his solo training session when he heard a distinctly Pidge-like voice scream at him down the hall.

“KeeeeeIIIITTTTHHH!”

He spun around, spotting Pidge rounding the corner, chasing a floating yellow puffball.

“STOP THAT CATERPILLAR!” she yelled.

Keith immediately went into battle mode, widening his stance and stretching his arms out like a goalie, prepared to stop the puffball at any cost. As it came whizzing past him, he snatched it out of the air, tumbling to the floor as it tried to pull out of his grasp. It even managed to start dragging him until Pidge latched onto his foot, bringing them both to a stop. Pidge then unceremoniously crawled up Keith’s body, practically sitting on his face to snatch the puffball from his hands. At his insistent nudging, she slid off his face, instead sitting in the center of his chest.

“What… is that?” Keith asked in-between wheezes.

Pidge clutched the fluffball to her chest, grappling with it. “It’s Leo,” she said.

Keith leaned up on his elbows, squinting at the miniature duel occurring. “And what is Leo?”

“A space – let go! – caterpillar!” Pidge finally managed to grab what she needed, tugging it from the mouth of the caterpillar and holding it up as her prize. “Ah ha!”

In her hand was what looked to be a computer chip, glistening from spit. Leo wiggled out of her grasp, looking unfazed as he settled into her hair. He gave a small purring sound before disappearing into her mess of cowlicks.

Keith looked between Pidge, the chip and the camouflaged caterpillar and decided to call it a night.

“Okay, while that was… weird,” he said, lightly pushing Pidge off his chest so that he could stand, “I have to go shower.”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, cleaning the computer chip with the hem of her shirt, “you kinda stink.”

“Thanks,” Keith said in all his deadpan glory. As he started down the hall, he felt something soft tickle the back of his neck. He jerked, turning to find the yellow puffball – Leo, was it? –staring at him.

“Pidge?”

“They like you!” Pidge called from her spot further down the hall.

“Yeah well,” Keith said, trying not to let Leo’s piercing gaze get to him, “that’s nice and all but – and now it’s snuggling me.”

Leo dove under the longer strands of hair at the nape of Keith’s neck, making a strange tittering sound as they settled there.

“Uuuuh…”

“Here,” Pidge said, jogging up to him and reaching for Leo, who gave a disappointed squeak as Pidge extracted them from their hiding spot. “They like nesting in hair,” she said with an easy shrug as if to say _what can ya do?_

Keith found his eyes falling onto Leo, who was staring imploringly up at him. Pidge did not seem to notice this as she said a “Good night” and started trudging down the hall.

“Pidge, wait!” Keith said before he could stop himself. Pidge looked over her shoulder at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah?”

“If they want,” Keith said, fumbling with his words. “Um… they can stay with me, uh, Leo that is.”

“I thought you needed to shower?” Pidge asked, facing him fully with a hand on her hip.

“Well, yeah,” Keith said, “but afterwards, if they still want… It's just… they made this face?”

Pidge nodded almost regretfully. “They got to you too, huh?”

Keith sighed, hiding behind his bangs as a muttered a quiet, “Maybe.”

Suddenly, a spot of yellow was in his vision, and Leo was looking up at him, waiting expectantly. With another sigh, Keith said, “Go ahead,” and Leo instantly took up the offer. They zoomed over Keith’s shoulder and shuffled under his hair, nestling onto the back of his neck.

“Guess they’re staying with you tonight,” Pidge said, not sounding the least bit upset.

“Guess so,” Keith said, reaching back to give Leo a stroke. They tittered, vibrating with happiness. It was both weird and kind of sweet at the same time.

“Okay, just don’t let them eat the soap. It makes them sick!” Pidge said, giving a final wave over her shoulder before disappearing back to wherever she came from.

“Alright…” Keith said, heading towards his room. “Let’s get our snuggle on… I guess.”


	6. Forgive and Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk feels guilty about hurting Lance, Lance provides the comfort he deserves. 
> 
> Set after Part 2, Chapter 1: Where Fore Art Thou, Imbeciles?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hunk deserves to be comforted just as much as he comforts others x

Hunk was minding his own business, you know, just chilling in the kitchen, mulling some things over when someone walked through the door.

Hunk scrubbed at his eyes, hoping to get rid of most of the tears. When he looked up, he found Lance hanging out in the doorway, sleep mask pulled up onto his forehead, whistling a tune. It just had to be Lance, didn’t it?

“Hey, buddy!” Lance said, walking towards Hunk, “What’s up?”

“Oh, hey, uh, Lance!” Hunk said. _Act natural, act natural, act natural._ “I’m uh, ya know just making myself a snack, the usual.”

Lance looked about, eyebrows furrowed. “With no ingredients?”

“It’s in the oven!”

“Hunk,” Lance said, pointing to the oven. “It isn’t on.”

“Ah dang,” Hunk said, snapping his fingers. “No wonder it’s taking so long!”

“Hunk, buddy,” Lance said, stepping closer. “What’s up?”

Too close, he’s too close I might –

Hunk raised his hands, stopping Lance in his tracks. Lance immediately stopped, just outside of Hunk’s reach.

“Hunk?”

“Just, stay there, okay. It’s safer.”

“What are talking about?” Lance said, shaking his head. He made to start walking again.

“STOP BEFORE I HURT YOU!”

Lance froze. Hunk’s own heart skipped a beat. Neither of them said anything, and then, “I might hurt you again,” Hunk whispered.

“What are you talking about?” Lance repeated. But he stayed where he was, safe, out of reach.

“I – Lance come on,” Hunk said, scrubbing underneath his eyes. Don’t cry, there’s no use crying. “Earlier, when I was brainwashed? I could have seriously hurt you, like, no offence Lance but you’re a twig, and I’m pretty strong and –”

Hunk felt two gentle hands rest on his shoulders. He looked up to find Lance smiling at him of all things.

“Buddy,” Lance said, “it’s like you said. You were brainwashed. That wasn’t you.”

“But I –”

“That wasn’t you,” Lance said again.

Hunk sniffed and this time, he didn’t stop the tears from rolling. “I hate not being in control of my body. You know that.”

Lance nodded. “Yeah. You like knowing how everything works.”

“Exactly! It’s safer that way.”

“But Hunk,” Lance said, squeezing his shoulders lightly, “Sometimes you’re not gonna know stuff. It’s kinda inevitable.”

Hunk sighed, shoulders losing their tension. “I know. It’s just a lot to take in. I mean, we’re in space, fighting purple aliens, and I’m constantly on edge because this is some scary stuff and –”

Lance wrapped him up in a hug. Lance was a boney, one elbow digging into Hunk’s side, but he didn’t care. Hunk returned the hug, engulfing Lance.

“I know you would never hurt me intentionally, Hunk,” Lance said, voice a little muffled against Hunk’s chest.

Hunk nodded, not really trusting his words right now.

Lance pulled back, smiling up at Hunk. “I forgive you for almost killing me under the hypnosis of a giant sea leviathan.”

That pulled an amused huff out of Hunk, which would have to do for now. He could feel a smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at his best friend.

“I love you, buddy,” Lance said.

“Love you too, Lance,” Hunk sniffled.

Lance patted him on the back. “Well, seeing as we’re here already, ya wanna whip up a midnight snack with me?”

“Stars, yes,” Hunk said.

As the two worked together – well, Hunk doing most of the prep while Lance talked his ear off – Hunk’s smile grew. The familiarity of it all was comforting, Lance’s easy-going smile and the praise he gave to Hunk’s “absolutely fucking delicious masterpiece of a space sandwich” helping to ease a bit of the pain.

It would take some time to trust himself again around Lance, but knowing that Lance would be with him every step of the way – a constant in the world of the unknown they had hurtled into – it was probably the greatest gift of comfort he’d ever been given.


	7. Fuck You Adam (And Thank You Very Much)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance just wanted to go swimming. 
> 
> Set during Part 2, Chapter 4: And We Keep On Runnin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know some people aren't feeling great after season 8, so I wanted to post this (sort of) fluffy Klance piece. Its mostly pining Keith but hopefully it can bring a smile or two xxx

Why did Keith let Adam talk him into this?

“What are you doing here, Mullet?”

He was starting to ask himself the same question.

“Figured I’d check out the pool.” _And maybe check you out, too._

Keith adjusted the towel that was hanging over his head, praying that it covered his burning cheeks. He needed to say something, throw Lance off his tracks because knowing Adam, he was up to something. Keith could feel it, like a sixth sense.

“Listen,” he said. “You stay on one side of the pool and I’ll stay on the other, and we’ll be far, far away from each other. Very far.” Was that too much? Too obvious?

Lance looked like he was about to reply when suddenly, everything went dark.

Keith immediately stepped into a battle-ready position, feet hip-distance apart, knees bent. But the moment he felt Lance’s fingers brush his own he was gone. Keith stepped to the side, trying to keep his distance. It was bad enough they were stuck in an elevator together. Add the facts that they were only in swim trunks, it was dark and they could bash into each other any second, and it was a whole other ball game.

Adam was going to pay for this.

Lance’s breathing became erratic, quick and sharp. “Okay, don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t –”

“Lance!” Keith yelled, immediately regretting his harsh tone.

“Sorry!” Lance said, “I just… I don’t do well in small spaces, okay? And it doesn’t help that its dark!” His voice dipped, becoming softer, more subdued.

Well, now Keith felt like a right asshole for shouting at him. He never knew what to say. He’d always related with the saying that actions speak louder than words. Why say something that could be interpreted wrong when you could just show the person what you mean? Although it probably didn’t help that Keith couldn’t read body language very well either.

He’d grown up in a cabin in the desert with just him and his pop. He’d teach himself with workbooks his pop bought from town, finish the Maths and English and whatever-other-subject’s work quickly so he’d have more time for himself. He was good at sitting down and getting the work done by himself. He didn’t need to work at other people’s pace, didn’t need to rely on a teacher. It was just him and his workbook. And it wasn’t like he had much else to do except read and draw and listen to the crackly radio his pop refused to throw out. Sure, it was lonely sometimes but he got used to it. Looking back now, though, Keith wondered, if he’d gone to preschool with other kids his age, would he still be closed off, unsure, unable to understand what people meant when they said this or did that? Or would he be like Lance? Easy-going, care-free Lance who could make friends in no time. Lance, who people would flock to for stories and laughs and hang out with because why not? Lance, who everyone liked.

Keith took a deep breath, steadying himself. He said his words carefully, making sure not to freak Lance out any more than he probably already was.

“Okay,” Keith said, “There should be an escape hatch in the roof. We get that open and then can work from there.”

“Alright,” Lance said, voice suddenly back to its usual chipper tone. Was he pretending, or was Keith just overthinking it? “Whose standing on whose shoulders?”

There was a pause and then, at the same time they yelled: “not it!”

“Ugh!” Lance groaned. “Oh! How about we rock, paper, scissors for it?”

“It’s dark Lance,” Keith said, trying to keep his exasperation to a minimum. “We can’t see anything.”

“Ooooh… right.”

Keith hated this. He hated this situation Adam had gotten them into, he hated being this close to Lance and being forced to interact with him like this. He didn’t hate Lance, although where Lance had gotten the idea that they were rivals, Keith couldn’t fathom. He’d remembered Lance from the Garrison. Who wouldn’t remember him? But back then, in the medical tent, if he said he did, then he’d have to explain why he remembered him and then he would let something slip and he couldn’t do that. Not in front of all those people. Not to Lance who seemingly hated him for something Keith didn’t even know about.

Why do people have to make so everything complicated? Why can’t they just get to the point? Why do they have to dance around each other and get angry for no reason other than to cause more confusion?

“Just let me sit on your shoulders,” Keith said before he could think it through.

“What, why?” Lance said. And Keith could imagine that cute little pout of his, the way his thin eyebrows would pinch together and his nose would crinkle slightly and –

“Because you’re taller.” That’s reasonable, right?

“Aha! So, you admit it!” Keith felt something whoosh past his cheek, probably Lance trying to a point an accusing finger at him.

Keith huffed. His temper was beginning to spike and he really couldn’t afford that right now. “I will if it means we get out of this thing sooner!”

Keith waited for Lance’s reply. It didn’t come. Was Lance hurt? Was he getting panicky because of the dark again?

“Lance?”

“I’m waiting.” Oh, so he was okay. But then why was he being so quiet?

“Waiting for?”

“For you to admit that I’m taller!”

Keith gritted his teeth. Seriously? Could Lance be any more of a preschooler? “By two inches!”

“Sorry, what? Can’t hear you admitting that I’m taller from all the way down there!”

Keith rubbed soothing circles into his temples, willing the fire in his chest to simmer down. “Fine. Yes, Lance, you are taller than me.”

“Yes! Alright, hop on, Mullet.”

Wait… it was that easy?

Keith stammered, still a little taken aback. “I, uh, I don’t really know where you are.”

“Well, reach out and I’ll guide you,” Lance said, as if it were that simple. As if they weren’t half dressed and Keith would be touching Lance’s bare skin and shit shit shit, fuck you, Adam!

“Are you sure?”

“Uh, how else is this supposed to work?” Lance said.

Keith shook his head, not that it was any use with it being dark. “Never mind.” Hesitantly, Keith reached out, hand trembling as he anticipated the inevitable.

“Ah, there you are,” Lance said.

And Keith… may have stopped breathing because his hand was pressed to Lance’s chest and it was so warm and smooth and –

“Keith? Buddy?”

“Sorry!” Keith blurted. He slid his hand up to cup Lance’s shoulder instead, over his towel. That was safe.

It took a bit of manoeuvring and a little more bickering but eventually, Keith was situated on top of Lance’s shoulder and dragging his hands over the roof in search of the escape hatch. It didn’t help that Lance kept shifting his weight, fidgeting, sighing in boredom.

“Would you quit squirming?” Keith bit out.

“I’m not squirming!” Lance said as he shifted his weight _again_ and made Keith lose his place.

“Yes, you are!”

Lance blew a raspberry, his head twitching to the right as if he were flicking his hair. “Just open the hatch, Mullet.”

Keith’s hands clenched into fists, so tight he could his knuckles crack. “I would if you _stopped squirming!_ ”

Lance groaned but did as Keith said, standing still.

“Thank you,” Keith mumbled, probably too soft for Lance to hear.

Eventually, Keith found the latch and started to turn it. It was stiff from disuse, barely budging. Keith gritted his teeth, twisting it with all his might when he felt his weight begin to shift. He wobbled, could feel himself begin to fall backwards when a warm weight settled on his thighs, steadying him.

Keith’s breath hitched because Lance’s hands were on his bare thighs and they were warm and strong and Stars he couldn’t breathe –

“Keith?” Lance said, and his thumbs stroked up and down, reassuring and Keith was going to kill Adam. Maybe thank him first, but definitely kill him afterwards.

Keith grabbed hold of the latch once more. It was starting to give way, thank the Stars because the sooner Keith got this hatch open the sooner they could get out of here and Keith’s mind wouldn’t turn to mush.

“Got it,” Keith said once the hatch finally popped open. His voice may or may not have shaken slightly. He prayed Lance didn’t notice.

He slid the hatch to the side, sighing in relief when he saw that the elevator shaft’s lights were still working. He scrambled his way out, pulling himself up as quickly as he could.

“Awesome!” Lance said, “So now we just – OW!” Keith winced. He may or may not have kicked Lance in the head in his rush to get out. Great, something Lance can add to his probably endless list of ‘why I hate Keith Kogane’.

“Sorry,” Keith mumbled.

“Yeah, you better be,” Lance grumbled.

Keith leaned over the edge, stretching his hand out. “Grab my hand,” he said.

Lance squinted up at him, using a hand to shield his eyes from the bright light of the elevator shaft. He looked like he was contemplating whether to take Keith’s hand or not

Keith rolled his eyes. “We don’t have all day, Lance.”

Lance didn’t say anything, grabbing Keith’s hand and jumping. Keith pulled, struggling a little with Lance’s weight.

“You are a lot heavier than you look,” Keith huffed, trying not to let his feet slip.

“Excuse me?” Lance gasped.

Keith smirked. “You’re excused.” He honestly couldn’t help it. What was it Adam had said? _Start with the banter. As you get closer, you can move away from the stupid rivalry._

“The nerve,” Lance grumbled, but Keith swore he caught the beginnings of a smile.

Lance struggled to pull himself up the last little bit, so Keith gave one final heave. He must have overdone it, because, while Lance managed to slip out of the hatch, Keith also managed to pull Lance right on top of him.

Oh Stars, this was like all those stupid romcoms Shiro liked.

Lance blinked down at Keith, mouth slightly parted in surprise. Keith swallowed thickly, eyes trailing over Lance’s features. The slope of his nose, his angular jaw that still had a little bit of baby fat on the edges, long eyelashes fanning across prominent cheekbones. And those eyes. Keith had never seen the ocean, but if he had to hazard a guess, it would be the colour of Lance Sanchez’s deep, cobalt-blue eyes.

Keith could feel his cheeks burn the more Lance looked at him. His eyes darted so quickly over Keith’s features, he couldn’t keep track until they caught on Keith’s lips. Keith bit his bottom lip, trying to hold back a gasp.

“Um!” Lance scrambled back, nearly falling down the open hatch in the process. Keith grabbed his hand, stopping him in time.

“Could you be any clumsier?” Keith mumbled, gruff and rude because of course, he had to ruin the mood, of course, he had to cut down any thoughts at the root that would lead him to believe that that meant something. Why would it? Lance didn’t like him, made it perfectly clear every opportunity he got. Sure, their banter was fun and at times, Keith might even call it playful, how Lance’s eyes would twinkle with mischief, his smile more genuine than malicious. But then there were the times when Keith could see the disregard in Lance’s face, the pointed looks, his nose turning up in the air with a sniff. Lance was so unpredictable, it drove Keith crazy trying to keep up with him.

Lance huffed, pulling his hand back from Keith’s grip. Keith let his own hand fall into his lap, trying to hide the shaking.

He waited for Lance’s smart retort, for him to make fun of Keith, sneer at him or something. But Lance said nothing. His eyes darted to Keith, then fell to the floor, Keith, floor, Keith, floor.

Eventually, Lance spoke up. “Now what?” he asked.

Keith huffed, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion because “Why do you keep asking me?”

“Cause sometimes you actually have good ideas!” Lance said, throwing his hands up in the air.

Keith startled at the semi-compliment (it was a compliment, right?), ducking his head to hide behind his bangs. “Just… give me a second,” he said, wracking his brains. They were stuck between entrances, and there was no ladder on any of the walls. They could wait for one of the team to find them, but that could be hours from now.

“Wait!” Lance said. Keith looked between his bangs, saw the sparkle in Lance’s eye that he always got when he had a big idea.

“What?”

Lance grinned. “Have you ever watched The Emperor’s New Groove?”

Keith frowned. “The what now?”

Lance’s grin dropped. For a second Keith thought he was about to cry. “You… you haven’t seen The Emperor’s New Groove?”

“Uhhhh… no?”

Lance steepled his hands together, taking a deep breath before looking Keith dead in the eye. “You. Me. Movie night with Pidge’s laptop. You are missing out on a classic.” He shook his head in disappointment. “Adam and Shiro have failed as parents.”

“They’re not my parents,” Keith said, trying not to let the idea of sitting with Lance in the common room to watch a movie together overrun his thoughts.

Lance shrugged. “Brothers then. Either way, you need to watch that film.” He stood up, brushing his swimming shorts. He offered a hand to Keith. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

Lance’s smile was genuine, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

_As you get closer, you can move away from the stupid rivalry._

Keith took Lance’s hand, allowing him to pull him up to his feet.

“Okay,” Keith said. “What’s the plan?”

*

All of that effort, all of that time and energy felt wasted as they landed on the floor of the swimming pool room because guess what?

The pool was _upside down._

“What the heck?!” Lance screeched, staring at the Olympic-size swimming pool hanging over their heads.

Keith folded his arms tightly across his chest, could feel a frown coming on. “Stupid Altean pools,” he muttered. He had seen how excited Lance was at the prospect of getting to swim. He remembered spotting him once in the Garrison’s pool – used mostly for exercise by the students – carving through the water like it was second nature. It was like he was meant to be in the water. And now here they were, having climbed at least five storeys to get here, only to have the pool just out of reach.

He eyed the rest of the room, trying to find a lever or a switch or something that activated the gravity in the room, tried to think of some way to get Lance up there when the ship jolted. Keith’s feet were swept out from under him and he watched in terror as the water above their heads came tumbling down in one gigantic wave. Lance’s yell was cut off as the water swallowed them whole. Keith tumbled and turned, trying to make sense of what was up and what was down. His pop had taken him to a community pool a couple times, had taught him the basics but all that flew out the window as panic began to settle in. What if they got stuck? What if the gravity pulled them down to the bottom of the pool and they couldn’t breach the surface?

But just as quickly as they were swallowed by the water, they were spat out, landing hard on the floor in a pile of limbs. Lance let out a low groan, shifting underneath Keith. Keith rolled off him, trying to catch his breath.

_In for four, hold for two, out for six._ It was what Shiro had taught him along with patience yields focus, along with ‘don’t be afraid of who you are’.

But right now, none of that was working. His breathing was erratic, his mind swirling with the aftershock and lately… lately, the idea of who he might be was terrifying.

“Hey man, you okay?” Lance. Lance was at his side, rubbing soothing circles on his back, just like he had with Allura earlier. Keith’s stomach had churned with jealousy at the sight, but now, he wishes he could take it back.

“I’m fine,” Keith choked out between breaths. He was starting to settle down, his breathing smoothing out. Lance kept his hand on Keith’s back, a steady warmth that Keith both relished and feared. He couldn’t get used to this. Shouldn’t get used to this. This wasn’t a thing that they did. They picked on each other and squabbled and made a good team when it mattered most. But that was it.

Once Keith’s breathing was back to normal, he scooched out of Lance’s reach. The Castle’s alarms were going off, synching with the thudding in Keith’s head.

“We should go,” Keith said. He stood, Lance following him and Keith was about to start towards the door when Lance caught his arm.

“Lance, we don’t have time for –”

Time stopped. Keith met Lance’s eyes, caught those prominent cheekbones because there were freckles, hundreds of them dusting Lance’s nose and fading towards his temples. His hair was curling and with his towel lost in the pool, his shoulders were bare, showing a smattering of freckles there as well.

How had Keith not noticed them?

“You sure you’re okay?” Lance asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Keith nodded slowly, trying not to let his eyes linger on Lance’s broad shoulders, the slope of his nose, the wavy hair across his forehead.

“Yeah,” Keith said. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Lance dropped his arm, giving a small, reassuring smile. “Alright. Let’s get to the bridge then.” He clapped Keith on the shoulder before jogging out the door.

Keith stood rooted to the spot for a moment, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

“Keith?” Lance said, poking his head around the doorway. “You coming, man?”

Keith nodded, meeting Lance at the doorway. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

As they raced to the bridge, making a game of it even though the Castle alarms continued to scream at them to hurry up, Keith thought that maybe he would thank Adam after all.


	8. Thanks Are In Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coran gives Lance a long overdue thanks
> 
> Set during Part 2, Chapter 6: Confessions of a Shopaholic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I know I said I'd be posting the Klance movie not-date but I realised this was a perfect opportunity for some Coran and Lance bonding time so here ya go!

“Lance my boy, can we talk?”

Lance stopped his rummaging through his costume, head popping up. “Uh, sure. What’s up, Coran?”

Coran cleared his throat, keeping his eyes forward on their trek to the swap moon as he started, “Well my boy, our lives have been a little chaotic recently.”

A chuckle. “…Yeah, I guess.”

_Good. Good start._

“All these mishaps and such things happening one after the other. No breaks in-between whatsoever.”

“Uh huh.”

“But, that’s no excuse for what I’ve done.”

Coran saw Lance tilt his head in confusion. “And what is that… exactly?”

Coran sighed, could feel the weight on his shoulders increase. “I haven’t thanked you for what you did back on Arus.”

Lance considered this a moment, lips pursing until he made the connections. “Oh, you mean the explosion thing?”

Coran nodded, sneaking a glance at Lance. “What you did was extremely brave and honestly a little crazy.”

Lance shrugged, “Just saving a friend. You would have done the same thing.”

Coran winced. “That’s the thing, my boy, I don’t know if I would have.”

Lance paused. “Really?”

Coran nodded, slow, considering his words. “We barely knew each other. Had only known each other a week and yet, without hesitation, you pushed me out of danger.”

“Yeah,” Lance said. He leaned back in his seat, costume forgotten. His knee began to bounce. “I mean. We’re defenders of the universe. We have to help people.”

Coran shook his head, a fond smile creeping across his lips. “Lance, I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Yeah, I do!” Lance said. “You’re saying thanks because I pushed you out of the way. It’s no biggie.”

“It is a biggie, Lance! It’s a very big biggie!”

Lance startled, knee freezing mid-bounce.

Coran winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

“’S okay.”

Deep breath. In. Out.

“What you did Lance was push a stranger out of range of an explosion without thinking twice. You didn’t hesitate. And you got hurt… because of me.”

A hand shot to the back of Lance’s neck, fingers trailing below the collar of his shirt. Lance always went quiet whenever his scar was mentioned. Coran didn’t blame him. It was a nasty injury, near-fatal. He could have so easily broken his back if he’d so much as landed at the slightest different angle.

“It’s not your fault,” Lance whispered. “It was Sendak who set off the explosion.”

Coran’s ears folded back. He shrank in on himself a little. “Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

Coran felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder, looked up to see a smiling Lance. “Coran, it’s okay. I don’t blame you. I promise.”

Coran reached up, patting Lance’s hand. “I believe you.”

With a nod, Lance withdrew his hand. A silence crept between them, nestling itself in the pod. It wasn’t awkward, nor unsettling. Rather, it was calm. A moment of acceptance between the two of them; Lance tapping a rhythm on the edge of his drawer, Coran humming an off-key tune.

Lance’s drumming stopped. Coran halted his humming.

“Hey, Coran?”

“Yes, my boy?”

“Thank you.”

Coran’s ear twitched, nose scrunched in confusion. “For what?”

Lance traced the edge of his drawer, not looking at Coran as he said, “For saying all that stuff about me.”

Coran smiled. _This boy._

“I meant every word of it.”

The corner of Lance’s lips ticked up, barely, but it was there.

“I believe you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance deserves all the love. 
> 
> Up next, Keith and Lance watch a movie. But it's not a date. Definitely not a date.


	9. It's Not A Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance educates Keith on an unappreciated Disney classic
> 
> Set during Part 2, Chapter 6: Confessions of a Shopaholic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The Klance movie not-date. Enjoy ;)

“Hey, uh, Keith? Can we talk?”

Keith froze mid-way with putting his bowl in the dishwasher. Everyone else was still busy with dinner back in the dining room, meaning it was just the two of them in the kitchen. Keith was always the first to finish so even though Lance was only halfway done with his bowl of food goo, as soon as he’d seen Keith leaving the room, he’d downed it all in one go and chased after him, leaving a very confused team in his wake. It probably looked weird, him chasing after Keith, but if he wasn’t quick enough, Keith would run off to the training room and Lance would miss his chance.

Keith side-eyed Lance before placing his bowl in the dishwasher. “Why?”

“Uh, well, um.” Great start Lance.

Keith sighed, taking Lance’s bowl and dumping it in the dishwasher. “Listen, if you’re just gonna stand there –”

“Doyouwannawatchamoviewithme?”

Keith gave Lance a look which he could only describe as a mix between confused and irritated. Confuritated?

“I didn’t understand a word you just said,” Keith deadpanned.

Lance took a deep breath. _Keep it cool. Stay cool Lance._

“Do you wanna watch a movie with me?” Lance repeated, slow, probably a little too slow, but at least it wasn’t a jumbled-up word soup.

Keith frowned. “Why would you want to watch a movie with me?”

_That’s not a no. So far, so good._

“You remember the elevator?” Lance asked.

Keith averted his eyes. “Uh… yeah? What about it?”

“Well, you said you’ve never seen Emperor’s New Groove?”

“I did?”

Lance blew a raspberry in frustration. “Yes.”

“Okay… so?”

_Stars, he is not making this easy._

“So, I said I’d watch it with you. And we’ve got time now so I thought maybe we could, ya know… watch it. Together.”

Keith looked at Lance from under his bangs, eyebrows furrowed as he studied him. “You’re serious?”

“Uh, yeah man.”

“You, Lance Sanchez,” Keith pointed to Lance. “Want to watch a movie with me, Keith Kogane,” he pointed to himself. “Your so-called rival?”

Lance winced. “Well… yeah. I mean, you don’t have to say yes, but Pidge has it on her hard drive and said I could borrow her laptop so –”

“Okay.”

Lance froze, hands caught mid-gesture. “Wait, what?”

Keith shrugged, looking anywhere but Lance. “I said okay.”

Lance’s jaw dropped. “You’re gonna watch a movie with me?”

“Well, not if you keep making such a big deal out of it,” Keith grumbled.

Lance waved his hands, stopping Keith. “No, no, sorry, yeah. No, it’s cool. We’re cool. You’re cool, I mean –”

_Shit fuck shitty-shit fuck shit._

Keith chuckled, raising a thick brow. “You think I’m cool?”

“Well, I –” Lance huffed, crossing his arms with a pout. “Are we gonna watch the movie are not?”

Keith didn’t drop his quizzical brow, but his lips did tick in the corner. “Yeah. We’re gonna watch a movie.”

Lance grinned, pout forgotten as he pumped a fist in victory. “Alright! Go set up some blankets and stuff in the common room, I’ll get Pidge’s laptop and ask Hunk – oh wait.”

“What?”

“You don’t like popcorn.”

“… How did you know that?”

_Well done, idiota._

Lance gave a nervous chuckle, scuffing his shoe. “Adam told me.”

Keith eyed Lance with suspicion. His tiny hint of a smile was completely wiped away. “Did he put you up to this?”

Lance frowned. _What?_ “No. I need to educate you in the ways of underappreciated classic Disney animation and we have the time so I figured –” he shrugged. “Why not?”

Keith’s eyes narrowed and Lance could feel his wariness from a mile away. They stayed like that, Lance waiting, Keith assessing before finally, Keith dropped his gaze. “Okay. I’ll grab some blankets.”

Lance perked up, a smile spreading from ear to ear. “Cool. See you in a few.”

Before Keith could change his mind, Lance turned on his heel and jogged out of the kitchen. His heart was racing and he could feel his cheeks begin to flush.

 _Just the jogging,_ he figured.

*

He’d stopped by his room to brush his teeth but came to an immediate stop when he saw the guitar case. It was lying innocently on his bed, surrounded by a few other bags but he couldn’t stop looking at the guitar because _how._

Slowly, Lance approached his bed, on guard because how did this stuff get here?

Lance reached for the nearest bag, peeking inside to see a pile of… beauty products? Looking about to check no one was watching – he was in his room, sure, but this could still be a trap – Lance took out the products and laid them out on the bed. There were moisturizers and facemasks aplenty. Brown sugar body scrub, citrus shampoo and conditioner and –

“No way.”

He held a Mac makeup palette in his hand, with an array of makeup brushes to match. Mascara, some different shades of lip gloss and liquid eyeliner. The eyeshadow was mostly neutral browns and golds, with a few pops of blue and silver for fun. There was also a sticky note attached to the front. Lance tore it off, squinting to read the messy scrawl.

_These should help bring out the blue and brown in your eyes. Don’t hide what makes you unique – Adam_

Lance huffed a laugh, smiling. There was an arrow in the bottom right corner. When he turned the note over, he found there was more writing at the back.

_P.S If you need help with eyeliner, ask Shiro. He’s a pro._

Lance hummed in surprise. Who would have thought? He brought the note closer, the paper nearly brushing his nose, to read the final bit that was squeezed into the bottom corner.

_P.P.S if you use any of this to hide your freckles I will kill you._

Lance tucked the note into his pocket for safekeeping before packing the beauty products back into its bag. There were a whole pile of bags yet to be rifled through, but Lance figured he could search through them later. Right now, he had a movie night to get to.

*

After a little persuasion with a teary Pidge (“I’m not crying.” “If you say so, Pidgeon.”), Lance got her laptop and hard drive. He tucked them safely under his arm as he started towards the common room. His thoughts were running a little haywire.

_I’m gonna watch a movie. With Keith. Keith Kogane. My rival. Well, kind of rival. Friend? No. Teammate? Yeah, teammate. Teammate works better –_

“Adam!”

Lance stopped just in time before bumping into Adam. He clutched Pidge’s computer tighter. If he so much as got a scratch on either one, Allura would need to find a new Blue Paladin come morning.

Adam smiled. “Hey, Mouse. How’s the head?”

Oh. Right.

Lance waved a hand at his temple, showing the now-healed cut. It was small, barely noticeable if you didn’t know to look. It probably shouldn’t bother Lance as much as it did, but it was still a probing thought; a blemish at the back of his mind. “Coran stuck me in the pod for a bit. I’m all good now, no more concussion!”

“Good.” Adam’s eyes trailed down, zeroing in on the laptop tucked under Lance’s arm. “Is the movie happening or?”

“Oh,” Lance adjusted the laptop, averting his eyes. Wow, his sneakers need cleaning. He should get on that. “Uh, yeah. Took a little convincing but Keith said yes. We’re gonna be in the common room if anyone needs us.”

Adam hummed, a smile Lance didn’t trust creeping onto his face. He elbowed Lance playfully. “Keep your hands to yourself, you hear me?”

Lance’s heart skipped a beat. What? Why would he say that? “I – it’s not like that!” _It could never be like that._

“I know,” Adam said, smile softening. “Enjoy the movie.”

With a pat to his shoulder, Adam started towards the sleeping quarters. Lance stopped him just as he was about to round the corner.

“Hey, Adam?”

Adam poked his head out. “Yeah?”

He wanted to say thank you for the makeup. That he loved it. That he couldn’t wait to try it on even though it also terrified him a little. Instead, he said, “Thanks for the guitar. I really appreciate it.” Because he did. He really, really did.

“No problem, Mouse,” Adam said. He gave a wink before disappearing around the corner, leaving Lance alone in the hallway.

*

“Took you long enough.”

Keith was sitting in the middle of the curved couch. There was a messy pile of blankets at his side with a pillow precariously balanced on the edge, about to fall. Lance jumped down the steps, side-stepping the coffee table they’d recently installed to flop down next to Keith. He reached over, propping the pillow so that it was safe from harm.

“Sorry, Adam left a bunch of stuff in my room and I got curious,” Lance said.

“He got you gifts too?”

Lance blinked up at Keith who looked equally surprised. “Uh, yeah. He got me a guitar and some… other stuff.”

Keith nodded. Lance waited for him to say something but when it became apparent he wasn’t going to, he prompted him, “What did you get?”

Keith squirmed in his seat, crossed his arm. “Just some clothes.”

“That it?”

Keith huffed. “Are we gonna watch the movie or not?”

Lance raised his free hand in surrender. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

He placed Pidge’s laptop on the coffee table, plugging in her hard drive and opening up the movie folder. It took a bit of searching – she had a whole library’s worth of films stored there – but eventually, he found it.

“Pass me a blanket.”

Keith did so, offering the pillow as well. Lance made himself comfortable, placing his feet on the table and crossing them at the ankle, blanket draped over his legs. It just covered his feet.

Keith scoffed.

“What?” Lance asked.

“Adam would rap your knuckles if he saw you with your feet on the table.”

“Well Adam isn’t here,” Lance said with a grin. He stretched out dramatically, arms above his head, before settling back under his blanket.

Keith watched amusedly before training his eyes on the laptop. There was still a blanket at his side, lying unused.

“Dude, you gonna snuggle up, or what?” Lance asked.

Keith’s head snapped to Lance, startling them both. “W-what?”

Lance jutted his chin towards Keith’s blanket. “Your blanket dude. It’s there for a reason.”

Keith looked between the blanket and Lance – blanket, Lance – before coming to a realisation. “Oh. Right.” Gingerly, he picked up the blanket, draping it over his lap. He was still sitting ram-rod straight, arms crossed as he watched the blue Disney castle light up.

“Dude,” Lance said.

“What?”

“Relax.”

Keith frowned. “I am relaxed?”

Lance leaned over, pausing the film, the Disney chorus halted mid-song. “No, you look ready to run as soon as the movie is over. Lay back, put your feet up and for Star’s sake, uncross your arms, I’m not gonna bite.”

Keith’s frown only deepened. “But –”

“Nuh uh, no but’s.” Lance reached over, grabbing Keith’s wrists lightly and guiding his arms to rest at his sides. He then knocked Keith’s ankles until, with an exaggerated sigh, Keith relented and propped his feet up on the table, slumping back. Lance added the final touch by bringing Keith’s blanket up to his chest, just like when he tucked his nephew into bed.

“There,” Lance said, smiling at his handiwork. “Now you are ready to enjoy – oh wait shit.”

“What?” Keith said, beginning to sit up.

Lance put a hand on his chest, pushing him back down into his slumped position. “Forgot to turn off the lights,” Lance explained.

He whipped off his blanket, jumping up over the back of the couch and running to the light. He flicked it off, blinking at the sudden darkness. The only light source was Pidge’s laptop, screen lit up bright sky blue. Lance walked towards the light, nearly falling onto the couch but catching himself last second. He could hear Keith’s quiet snicker.

Lance slid down onto the couch, rearranging himself back into his ultimate-comfort position.

“Ha, ha. Very funny.”

“Just a bit,” Keith quipped.

Lance rolled his eyes, not that Keith could see him, before pressing play.

The opening words _Long ago, somewhere in the jungle_ were presented, fading to black. Lightning struck on the screen and there was Kuzco, crying his eyes out in the jungle. He wasn’t even two lines into his monologue before Keith butted in.

“Is that a llama?”

“Yep.”

“In the jungle?”

“Yep.”

“Crying?”

“Yepety-yep.”

“This makes no sense.”

Lance sighed. Pausing the film again and scrolling back to the beginning. “It will if you listen. This is probably the most unconventional and awesome Disney film of all time. But you have to listen to the narration otherwise it doesn’t make sense.”

Lance looked at Keith, who was staring wide-eyed at him.

“You’re really serious about this?”

Lance pulled on his poker face. “Dead serious.”

Keith pinched his lips before turning his gaze back to the laptop. “Okay. I’ll listen.”

“Thank you,” Lance said, cracking a smile. He pressed play with a flourish, leaning back and watching as Kuzco explained his predicament.

Keith was doing pretty well, even bobbing his head to the opening theme song, until it came to the part where Kuzco is supposed to choose a bride.

“They all look the same.”

“Huh?” Lance said, tearing his gaze away from the screen.

“The girls, they’re all the same.”

Lance paused the film. “No, they’re not.”

Keith scoffed. He extracted himself from his blanket cocoon and scooched forward. He waved Lance’s hand away to scroll back. He fumbled a bit with the trackpad before he found what he was looking for and paused.

“There, look. They’re all the same. It’s just their hair that’s different.”

Intrigued, Lance scooched forward as well, leaning in to analyze the girls and – Keith was right. Different hairstyles, same faces.

“Shit. How did I not realise that?”

Keith shrugged. “You were probably too distracted by how pretty they supposedly are.”

“Well, they are pretty!” Lance argued.

Again, Keith shrugged. “I guess.”

“You _guess?_ Dude look at ‘em.” Lance gestured to the screen.

Keith considered them for all of two seconds before turning a deadpan look to Lance. “Eh.”

Lance huffed. “Oh please, next you’re gonna say Allura is only mildly attractive.”

“She is pretty.”

“Ah ha!” Lance exclaimed, pointing his finger in Keith’s face. “So you admit it.”

“You’ve said she’s pretty.”

Lance’s finger dropped. “Yeah, so?”

“So I’m basing my judgement off that.”

Lance was speechless. Honest to Stars speechless. “You’re joking.”

Keith frowned, nose scrunching. “No. I’m not.”

_Do you honestly believe Keith finds Allura attractive?_

_Hey, she’s, well… Allura! Who wouldn’t?_

_A gay guy._

“Oh,” Lance breathed.

“‘Oh’ what?” Keith asked, voice tinged with frustration.

Lance twisted his fingers together, suddenly embarrassed. “Never mind, just, ah, uh, realization. Sorry for, um… trying to force that on you.”

Keith’s face even out, frustration gone, leaving only innocent confusion. “Force what?”

Lance shook his head. “Never mind. Don’t worry.”

“You’re weird, you know that?” Keith said and if Lance didn’t know any better, he’d think Keith was smiling.

“Says the guy who lived in a shack for six months.”

“It wasn’t a shack!”

“Whatever, Mullet,” Lance grinned, pressing play.

The rest of the movie went on like that. Keith making comments, Lance having to pause and explain, go back, press play again. Sometimes Keith was confused, other times his comments were actually funny and Lance would find himself laughing of all things.

“Wait.”

“What?” Lance said, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“Is this –?”

“Yep.”

Pacha and Kuzco were currently scaling a bottomless pit, arms locked, backs pressed against each other, synchronizing their steps.

“This is where you got your idea from?”

Lance nodded. “Yep.”

“And you thought it would work?!”

Lanced paused the film, arching his brow at Keith. “Well, duh. They managed.”

“It’s a cartoon,” Keith deadpanned.

“Animation,” Lance corrected. “And yeah, it was a bit of a risk, but our heights worked out in accordance to the diameter of the elevator shaft so,” he shrugged. “I figured it would work.”

Keith stared, mouth parted. “Our what now.”

“Our heights combined? In proportion to the diameter of the elevator shaft?”

“Diameter?”

“It was circular, remember?” Lance said, twirling his finger to create an invisible circle. What was Keith not understanding?

“And you calculated all of that in your head?” Keith asked.

“I guestimated,” Lance said.

“Guestimated…”

Lance sighed at Keith’s still confounded look. “Look, man, it worked, we survived. Can we carry on with the movie?”

Keith gave no response.

“Keith?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, was just… thinking.”

“…Okay.” Lance un-paused the film, settling back. He could feel Keith’s eyes on him but said nothing about it.

*

Lance counted to ten after the end credits began rolling before asking Keith, “What did you think?”

Keith hummed, gaze still set on the screen. Halfway through the movie he’d tucked his legs underneath him, still wrapped up in his blanket, an arm on the back of the couch propping his head. He looked like The Thinker at that moment, gracefully pondering the universe rather than trying to figure out his opinion on an animated film made over fifty years ago.

“I’m still kinda confused.”

Lance thunked his head against the back of the couch. “Uuuuuugh. Keith, not everything has to make sense for you to enjoy it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it,” Keith said, eyebrows furrowed, a small pout coming on.

It was kinda cute.

Lance cleared his throat. “So, you did like it?”

Keith’s lips pinched to the side, eyes trailing back to the screen. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Oh yeah!” Lance said. He threw his arms up in celebration, yelling, “Ya hear that, everybody!”

“Lance!”

Lance ignored him, flinging his blanket back, standing up on the couch as he exclaimed louder, “I, Lance Sanchez!”

“Lance, keep your voice down!”

“Got the Keith Kogane!” He smiled down at Keith, who was scowling back up at him.

_“Lance.”_

“To not only watch but also enjoy a Disney animated film!”

Lance felt a hand wrap around his wrist, stomach bottoming out as he was suddenly tugged down. His foot slipped, causing him to fall gracelessly onto the couch cushion and nearly sliding off the edge in the process.

“Careful man I coulda –!”

Lance didn’t know what he coulda because Keith was smiling. Not only was he smiling, but he was also laughing. Like, the full-belly kinda laugh that causes crinkles in the corners of your eyes and _is that a dimple?_

“Sorry,” Keith said between chuckles. “Sorry, just. You’re gonna wake up the whole Castle.”

“I’m happy,” Lance said, wanting to add his usual bite but instead it just sounded soft, almost… nice.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Keith asked. He was smiling, and the dimple’s still there.

“T-that you liked it,” Lance said.

Keith’s brushed his thumb along Lance’s pulse point on his wrist. Lance shivered.

“Uh –” he took his hand back, Keith releasing him without argument. His smile dropped, dimple melting away, but there was still a curl to his lips.

“Thanks, Lance.”

“For?”

Keith gave a one-shouldered shrug. “For making me watch this movie with you.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “I didn’t make you do anything.”

Keith’s eyes glinted in the darkness. “You were very persistent.”

“I think you mean charming.”

“Suuuuure.”

The screen turned black, plunging them into darkness. Lance scrambled for his phone, switching on the flashlight app.

“Lance!”

“Ah, shit, sorry,” Lance said, directing the beam away from Keith’s eyes. He threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the light switch. “I’m gonna –”

“Yeah.”

The fluorescent lights were harsh on the eyes, but it was probably better than having a flashlight shining directly at them (again, whoops).

For a moment, Lance thought it might all disappear as soon as the lights were on like it really was all just a dream. But nope. There’s Pidge’s laptop and his discarded blanket. And there’s Keith, looking more relaxed than Lance has ever seen him, looking back at him with an expression he can’t quite figure out.

The spell broke when Keith stood, beginning to gather the blankets. “I guess we better –”

“Right, yeah.”

Lance carried Pidge’s laptop and hard drive while Keith took the blankets. He didn’t bother folding them (“I’m just gonna mess them up again anyway”), instead, he made a messy pile of blue and white in his arms, his nose just peeking over the top.

They walked together, footsteps echoing down the empty hallways, the quiet hum of the Castle their soundtrack.

“This is me.”

Lance stopped, swivelled around when he realized Keith was no longer at his side. He stood outside a bedroom door, his bedroom door, blankets balanced on one hip. His hair was ruffled, shirt wrinkled as if he’d just woken up.

Lance gave a nervous chuckle. “Oh. Right.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. He bit his bottom lip and Lance felt his cheeks begin to flush.

“Thank you.”

“Hm?”

“For tonight,” Keith explained. He brushed his bangs back with his free hand, only for them to flop back into place. “I… I needed this. After today.”

Lance frowned, trying to think back to what happened. Adam and Keith shouting at each other mingled with a headache. Talk about meddling and being a family.

Oh. Adam and Keith had fought. And it wasn’t the usual banter-kind it was like a real anger-fueled fight. No wonder Keith had looked so sour at dinner.

“No problem,” Lance said, “’S whatever, ya know?”

“Yeah…” Keith fidgeted with a corner of a blanket, rubbing the material between two fingers.

“Guess I’ll see ya tomorrow,” Lance said.

Keith nodded. “Yeah.” He placed his hand on his keypad, the door opening. Lance took that as his cue to exit, was already hallway to his door when Keith said, “Sleep well, Lance.”

Lance stopped, looked over his shoulder to see relaxed-Keith. Rumpled, slightly-smirking Keith with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“You too, Keith,” Lance whispered.

Keith nodded, disappearing into his room.

When Lance had finally freed up his bed from all of Adam’s gifts, his facial routine done, Pidge’s headphones on, the soundtrack to his childhood playing in his ears, Lance laid in bed, expecting to fall asleep right away.

Instead, he laid there, images of the night flashing behind his eyes.

Keith analyzing him in the kitchen.

Keith sitting awkwardly on the couch until Lance helped him unwind.

Keith’s nose wrinkling in confusion when Kronk started speaking squirrel.

Keith’s dimple as he belly-laughed at Lance’s antics.

Keith, hair messy, eyes blinking slowly like a cat’s as he wished Lance goodnight.

Lance rubbed at his eyes, trying to banish the images away. In the end, though, they stuck around, mingling with the sound of the old TV in Lance’s lounge, the clinking of mugs as someone made tea; all mixing together until Lance couldn’t tell where home ended and Keith began.


	10. The Art Of Gift Giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam plays Santa. This is the team’s individual reactions.
> 
> Set during Part 2, Chapter 6: Confessions of a Shopaholic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @Cy666 who wanted a list of the gifts and @Pidgethenocturnalcat who wanted to see the rest of the team's reactions. Hope you guys like it!

**I**

Pidge wasn’t crying. She wasn’t, okay, it’s just… her allergies or some shit.

After dinner, Pidge had swung around her room, a bowl of food goo in hand to feed Newt and Leo, only to find the two caterpillars burrowing themselves in shopping bags. Pidge placed the bowl at the foot of her bed, crawling over to the nearest bag.

She tipped it toward her, Leo blinking up at her from a nest of clothes.

“Hey bud, what ya got there?” she asked. Leo chirped, leaving their nest to snuggle on Pidge’s shoulder. Pidge tipped the bag over, clothes dropping in a messy pile. She sifted through them, feeling the different materials under her fingers.

This one was filled mostly with denim and cotton shorts along with artsy knee socks. One or two shorts had embroidery with flowers or cacti on them, others artfully ripped. The overalls had a rainbow in place of one of the back pockets. Pidge chuckled.

Newt popped their head out of a bag further down, chirping for her attention. Pidge reached over, nearly falling over to grip the handle and drag it to her. Newt was no help, just along for the ride as they sat in the bag.

“Thanks for the help,” Pidge chastised. Newt zipped out of the bag, making a beeline for the food goo. Leo joined them, the two gulping down their dinner. They’d finally learned to feed themselves, albeit a little messy.

Pidge left them to eat as she sifted through the bag.

This one had cotton tees and crop tops with long-forgotten logos that she recognized from her bubbe’s old treasure trove of teen-days clothes. The material was soft, the logos faded, but that only added character.

Pidge’s smile grew with every bag she opened. There was a denim jacket with an array of patches and pins. Her favourite was a pink and green patch with Nessie on it. One bag was filled to the brim with computer parts that could help with integrating Altean tech with her new Gameflux, another with a book about influential female figures in the science world. That may or may not have made Pidge squeal. She was desperate to start flicking through the pages when a rather large bag in the center caught her eye.

Pidge put her book to the side for later reading, reaching for the bag. There was a sticky note attached to the outside.

_Fighting in space is badass. Doing it on your period even more so. Don’t forget to take care of yourself, Gremlin. – Adam_

Hesitantly, Pidge opened the bag and sure enough, there was probably a year’s worth of sanitary pads along with a heating pad with a fuzzy green cover.

And that’s when the not-tears started making an appearance.

Having finished their dinner, Leo and Newt floated over to Pidge, giving sympathetic noises.

“I’m okay,” Pidge said, sliding her glasses up into her hair to wipe at her eyes. “It’s just… Adam, he –”

Screw the tears. Adam had seen her cry before, it wouldn’t matter if she added one more instance.

Pidge scrambled off the bed, socked feet slipping as she ran down the hall to Adam’s room. This doofus was a sassy motherfucker, but he was also a gooey-hearted motherfucker and he deserved the biggest fucking hug this side of the universe. And Pidge was gonna be the one to give it to him.

**II**

Hunk didn’t know what to do.

On the one hand, _gifts_. Lots of them, all laying on his bed begging to be opened. On the other hand, he had no clue where they came from, it might be a trap and he really couldn’t afford that right now.

But Hunk had always been nosey to a fault. It was inevitable, really.

Rubbing his hands together in glee, Hunk closed his eyes and played eenie-meanie-miny-moe to choose his first bag. It was one of the bigger ones in the center. “One look won’t hurt,” he argued as he peeked inside.

Inside were two shoe boxes piled one atop the other. Hunk gasped when he opened them, revealing tan suede lace-up dress shoes in one and the most comfortable looking sneakers in the other. It was like the shoes his mom used to wear growing up. He’d always wanted a pair but there were no thrift stores that ever had his size.

But when he slipped them on, tying the pristine white laces, they fit perfectly. No pinching in the heels, enough space for his toes. Perfect. Almost scarily so.

Although there was that hint of panic telling him to be cautious, Hunk’s curiosity got the better of him which led him to opening the next bag, and the next, and the next. Most were filled with clothes: sweaters, button downs ranging from colourful and patterned to the fancier date-night worthy, chinos and jeans that, again, fit perfectly.

Hunk could almost cry. He wouldn’t sugar coat it: he was big, bigger than most sizes available in general clothing stores. He’d always hated shopping growing up, trying to squeeze into shirts and pants that he knew on sight weren’t going to fit. Then puberty hit and he started breeching six-foot-tall and well… you can guess the rest of the story.

But each carefully chosen item of clothing, the polo shirts, the denim and bomber jackets, they all fit just right; were flattering and stylish and he couldn’t help his smile of pride every time he saw his reflection. Because he looked good. _Really_ good.

He opened the next bag thinking it was another shoe box, but instead, it held a bundle of leather. Curious, Hunk lifted it out. It was heavier than it looked and on closer inspection, he found it had a thin string holding it closed. Carefully, he untied the neat bow. The leather unrolled, showing an exquisite knife set. Hunk gasped, laying the set down on his bed to inspect each individual knife. It came with three specialised sharpening tools as well and – a sticky note?

It was purple, with scratchy handwriting taking up nearly the entire square but he managed to make out the words with a bit of squinting.

_Every aspiring chef needs their own set of knives. Use them well – Adam._

“No way…”

Hunk tucked the note onto the inner flap of the leather holder, a reminder for whenever he used the set, before rolling it back up neatly and tying it together.

He sniffled, a giddy smile crossing his lips. Hunk knew Adam was cool, a little snarky sure, but he couldn’t hide that caring side – Hunk knew a big heart when he met one. And this only proved it.

He was still smiling as he tipped over the final bag, only for his smile to morph into a frown of confusion. They looked to be more cotton T-shirts but when Hunk picked one up and held it against his chest in front of the mirror, he realized it didn’t have sleeves. Like… at all. Some were cut deeply, nearly reaching halfway down his ribs. It took a moment but then it clicked: muscle tees. They were muscle tees. A _lot_ of them.

Did Adam make a mistake? There was no way Hunk could pull these off. They were so… revealing.

Hunk checked the time on his phone. It was around nine-ish. His and Shay’s chat session wouldn’t be starting for another half hour and Adam should still be up, right?

Folding the muscle tees and neatly packing them back into their bag, Hunk exited his room in search of Adam, weighing the pros and cons of wearing muscle tees with every step.

**III**

Coran was confused. Intrigued but also confused.

Gift bags littered his bed, all filled with strange items of clothing. Coran could figure out the jackets alright, one a stunning shade of purple made of a thick, slightly scratchy material on the outside and a silky-smooth lining covered in stars on the inside. It was looser than what he was used to, flying out behind him like a cape as he spun. There were also multiple compartments perfect for storing things.

However, the other items were a little more complicated. Firstly: the jumpsuits were all cut into two pieces, and none of them matched. To add to the confusion, the top halves were all split open down the middle and on one side there were these strange circular protrusions. He’d pressed one, hoping it would sew the item back together but after testing each one, he concluded that that was not, in fact, their purpose.

Then came the oddly-shaped cloths. Some were square shaped, made of the same silky material as his jacket lining. Then there were those that were wide at the ends yet very thin in the middle. These were a little more colourful, some with strange patterns of objects Coran didn’t recognize.

The socks he could figure out and they were rather playful in colour, however, the shoes had strange string-like things across the top that Coran couldn’t make sense of. They sort of just… hung there, waiting for him to trip over them on the first step.

It was the book that helped him make sense of it all.

It resembled the old tomes that had been preserved from the earlier civilizations of Altea, with thin pages and a hardcover. It was embossed on the front, the text reading: _The Times: Complete History of the World._ A flick through the pages revealed that it was Earth history. Coran clapped the book shut with a smile, relishing in the sound. That was when he spotted the note.

It was stuck to the back book but, when pulled, released its clutches easily. The top half was sticky, the rest of the paper clean.

“Fascinating,” Coran proclaimed. Having explored the wonders of the sticking note, Coran read the message inscribed on the clean side.

_Coran, an eccentric wardrobe for an eccentric man! This book should help enlighten you a little on Earth culture (I promise it’s one of the less boring ones). Happy reading – Adam_

“Dear boy…”

With a fond smile, Coran tucked the note onto the first page for safe keeping, extremely pleased that it once again stuck neatly in place, before closing the book.

**IV**

Allura didn’t understand.

Well, she understood that she had been given gifts, she just didn’t understand _why._

The items of clothing were… unusual, but she couldn’t help her fascination with the different fabrics. Rather than the usual stretchy material of her dress and jumpsuit, these items were made of all sorts of strange textiles. There was one piece in particular, the material was soft but had delicate floral patterns with miniscule holes in-between. It was slightly sheer, but still tasteful – although the sleeves were nothing more than thin straps…

The shoes as well were rather tricky. One pair was a neutral pink, but unlike her traditional shoes, they showed most of the top of her foot rather than her usual calf-length slip-ons. And then the other pair, this one she couldn’t make sense of. It barely covered her foot at all, made up of thin straps that crisscrossed over the arch of her foot. And the heel! It was extended nearly five hetons off the ground!

And then there was the necklace… She hadn’t noticed it at first, it being on her dressing table rather than with the rest of the bags. It laid safely in a medium-sized square box, about the size of her hand, with a note on it.

_Even hard-core, kick-ass Princesses need to feel pretty sometimes. I hope this is to your liking, Princess Peach – Adam_

This is where the confusion came in. Not only had she been given gifts with no ulterior motive such as marriage proposals or alliances with Altea, but it was from Adam. _Adam_ of all people.

She didn’t know the human very well, not as well as say Pidge or Hunk who she had grown rather fond of. They were easier to talk to over dinner, Hunk with his descriptions of Earth food and Pidge’s amusing stories of her and her brother. Lance, when he wasn’t flirting with her, was also rather amiable and Shiro, whilst being a good leader with an eye for battle strategies, could be sweet and even a little nerdish at times.

But Adam… Adam was a bit of a mystery. He said things he didn’t mean and things he did all in the same tone. Allura couldn’t tell when he was joking, being mean or being serious. It was always a guessing game with him. Except when it came to Shiro, and occasionally Keith. Then she could read him like an open book.

Leaving the note on its perch, Allura opened the box to reveal a gold necklace. It was minimalistic but classy with a thin gold chain and a flower pendant. The shape of the petals reminded her of a juneberry. She traced it with a shaky finger, following the outline in endless circles until she had the shape memorized.

“Princess?”

Allura pulled her hand away, tucking it behind her back. She whipped around to find Coran at her door. He had a giddy smile on his face, one she hadn’t seen in a long time, even before they had been placed in the cryopods.

“Yes, Coran?”

Coran’s eyes trailed to the gift bags on her bed, lopsided piles of clothing items leaning precariously to one side. It was messy and un-princess-like, but Coran didn’t seem to mind.

“I see Adam bestowed gifts upon you as well!” Coran said.

Allura nodded, reaching behind her to inconspicuously close the jewellery box lid. “Yes, it was very kind of him. However, the clothing confuses me.”

“Yes! I’m guessing they are Earth fashion. My jumpsuits are cut in half and there are these strangely shaped cloths. Did you receive the same?”

“No, although my items are made of a range of materials, mostly pink.”

Coran cradled his chin in his hand, moustache twitching as he pondered this. Suddenly, he lit up, clicking his finger.

“Shall we go ask Adam? Then we can thank him as well.”

“It’s rather late,” Allura said. “Do you think he’d mind?”

Coran waved her worries off. “That boy’s a night sterring! He’ll most definitely be awake.”

Allura hummed, taking one last peek at the jewellery box. “I suppose quickly thanking him shouldn’t hurt.”

“Perfect!” Coran spun on his heel, trotting out the door. When Allura didn’t immediately follow him, he stuck his head in the doorway. “Princess?”

“Yes, uh. Let’s go.” Hesitantly, Allura walked away from the jewellery box, following Coran towards the Paladin’s sleeping quarters. She kept her hands behind her back the entire way there, tracing the flower pendant on her palm.

**V**

Shiro was a little shaken. In the good way, though. A happy shaken. _Surprised,_ his mind provided him.

He was currently holding a leather jacket, thumb stroking the butter-soft leather. It reminded him of his favourite jacket back at the Garrison, the one he’d wear on hoverbike outings with Adam and Keith. He’d always wear it whenever the occasion deemed it suitable – casual nights out with friends, date nights with Adam to the local diner just a block away from their apartment building, day trips with Keith.

Adam had always chastised him whenever he saw Shiro slipping it on. “You’ve got at least three other jackets to choose from and yet you always pick this one,” he’d mutter, fixing the collar or rolling down a crinkled sleeve.

Shiro knew he secretly liked it, but when he told Adam as much, Adam would brush him off. His smile gave him away though. It always did.

The rest of the clothes ranged from tight jeans and well-fitted chinos to button-downs that fit snugly over his chest – not too tight that the buttons strained, but not baggy either, rather accentuating his broad chest and biceps. There were a few plain T-shirts as well (the one reading _Tired and Gay_ got a chuckle out of him).

But then there were the long-sleeved T-shirts. The ones with crew-neck collars and made of the softest material he’d ever felt. When he tried a particularly nice-looking light grey one, it hung loosely around his waist and chest, giving him room to breathe. The sleeves brushed just over his wrists, past where his bracelets used to be. It was comfortable but still nice enough that he could wear it casually paired with jeans and black Vans. It hid his scars without drawing attention to the fact that he was doing it.

Adam knew. He always fucking knew.

Shiro carefully slipped it off, folding it neatly before putting his black paladin pyjama shirt back on. The silk was smooth, but he still missed the comfort of what was probably going to be his new favourite shirt.

He found Adam’s note attached to a bag with tissue paper at the top, hiding whatever it contained.

_Shiro, this is a friend for the nights when I can’t be there for you. I know you’ll take good care of him – Adam_

There was something scratched out before Adam’s name, but Adam’s handwriting had always been shit, so Shiro couldn’t make sense of it. Carefully, he removed the layer of purple tissue paper to reveal a pair of ears surrounded by a mane of hair.

The lion plushy was, in a word: adorable. He had a fluffy mane surrounding warm brown eyes and a large nose. His ears were silky, the floof at the end of his tail even more so. Shiro had to resist the urge to rub his cheek against the lion’s fur. When Shiro placed him on his pillow, he sat up on his own, looking like he’d always belonged there.

Shiro shook his head, a fond smile curling his lips.

Adam was going to be the death of him.

**VI**

Keith was pissed off. Or at least, he wanted to be pissed off but it was kind of hard right now.

He’d walked into his room slightly dazed because Lance had asked him to watch a movie with him. Only him. Like it was a totally normal thing to do in one’s free time. Maybe it was, but Keith didn’t really have much to base it off of.

Sure, he and Adam would binge-watch that old YouTube series Buzzfeed Unsolved (the original with Shane and Ryan, not the newer one. Those dudes didn’t know shit and were just riding off the success of the original) and yeah, Adam and Shiro would have movie nights with them bundled up on the couch and Keith chilling on the floor eating caramel popcorn from the corner store but that wasn’t… okay apparently, it was normal. Keith just didn’t think it was normal for people his age.

But then why didn’t Lance invite Pidge and Hunk as well?

All of this was whizzing through his brain, thoughts so muddled and head a little dizzy, that he nearly threw all the gift bags lying on his bed to the floor in his haste to grab his blanket.

Without hesitation, Keith unsheathed his knife, holding it at the ready. He wasn’t about to take any chances. Yeah, he was emotionally exhausted and still kind of fuming over his and Adam’s argument, but that didn’t mean he was going to drop his guard.

Slowly, knife at the ready, Keith approached the nearest bag. He used the tip of his knife to tilt it down, just enough for Keith peek inside and find – no. No _fucking way_.

Keith hooked the string around his knife, using it to bring the bag to his hand. He scoffed as he took out the cowboy hat from its packaging.

Adam. He had to be behind this.

Keith stuffed the hat back into its package and chucked it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. He’d stuff it into one of the pull-out drawers he’d discovered later, well out of sight.

He figured the rest of the bags would contain follow-ups of a similar gag brand but was surprised to instead find clothes that were distinctly not cowboy themed. They were… not bad looking, actually.

There were dark wash jeans, black skinny jeans with rips at the knees, combat boots, T-shirts that were a little long at the waist but looked comfortable. Athletic wear with ticks on it (probably some kind of brand he didn’t know) that included sweatpants, running shoes and tight legging-like pants. They were made of a stretchy material, breathable, perfect for training.

Sweatshirts, a grey beanie, a denim jacket with patches and pins Keith couldn’t help smiling at. Okay, so this was kind of cool.

But Keith was still mad at Adam. Gifts weren’t gonna fix all the shit he’d been pulling lately.

With a forced scowl, Keith stuffed the denim jacket back into its bag, throwing it onto his bed with a huff. It felt good. Like when he kicked the shit out of the old punching bag in his shack – yes, okay, it was a shack, but that didn’t mean he was gonna admit it out loud. Shiro had taught him a few techniques back at the Garrison “For when you can’t throw that knife of yours around,” he’d said with a smirk.

Keith was about ready to whip his blanket out from under all the bags, not giving a shit if they fell to the floor when he spotted an overturned bag. It had been knocked over when he chucked the denim jacket. A book peeked out from the lip of the bag, as if it were sticking its tongue out at him.

Keith fisted his hands at his sides, telling himself to leave it, that these gifts meant nothing but…

With a growl, Keith picked up the bag, taking out the book with a little force than was necessary. Only it wasn’t a book. It was a sketch pad. A closer look at the bottom of the bag revealed two sets of pencils (coloured and graphite), an x-acto knife for sharpening as well as a charcoal set.

Gently, Keith took out the set of drawing tools, inspecting them. They weren’t the shitty kind he’d used to keep himself occupied growing up in the cabin in the desert. With his dad being away at work for long periods at a time and Keith having read most of their very limited selection of books three times already, he had picked up drawing.

Keith didn’t get out much when he was a kid. They didn’t have a TV, so his only glimpse at the outside world was through the crackly radio and the books he read. His dad would take him into town sometimes on the weekend and for vacations they’d go camping but otherwise it was just Keith, his sketchpad, some crappy colour pencils and his imagination

But these pencils, they were the good quality kind. The charcoal set too.

Keith bit his bottom lip, flipping through the sketch pad to feel the paper. It wasn’t too smooth, slightly rough, perfect for charcoal drawings. Keith faltered when he flipped to the final page and a shock of purple caught his eye.

Keith fingered at the note, carefully unsticking it so as not to ruin the drawing paper, and brought it closer for inspection.

It had Adam’s familiar chicken scrawl on it. Keith was expecting something sarcastic, a little biting comment to try to ease the tension. Instead, Adam did something weird. He wrote something sincere.

_Keith, I’m sorry for being an ass. I know these aren’t gonna fix everything but I want you to know that I consider you more than just some emo knife boy. You’re family. Now, you’re gonna hate me but I might have seen some of your sketches a while back and they were good. Really good. I hope this’ll help bring some of that passion back – Adam_

The writing covered both sides of the note, the final sentence squeezed into the bottom. Keith re-read it. Then re-read it again. And again.

“Asshole,” he murmured, wishing he meant it.

Staring at the tools at his disposal, his fingers tingled, desperate to drop everything and sketch something – anything – but he had a movie night to get to. His first ever movie night with a friend (rival? teammate?). With slight disappointment, Keith packed the sketchpad and pencils safely back into its bag. He placed it at the foot of his bed in the corner, away from danger. If he dropped it and the graphite cracked, those pencils were as good as gone.

It would take too long to pack everything away and move the bags to get to his blanket, so Keith grabbed his pillow and ran to the storage cupboard Coran had told them about for extra bedding. Arms filled with sloppily-folded blankets and his pillow tucked under his arm, Keith hurried down the hall towards the common room.

Don’t fool yourself, he was still angry with Adam.

But maybe, just maybe, a tiny smidge of his anger had dissipated.

**VII**

Lance liked to think he was a confident guy. At least, that’s how he presented himself. He figured that if he faked it long enough, he’d start to believe it. Nearly ten years after implementation, he was still testing this theory. But lately, he’d been second-guessing himself more. He didn’t feel worse about himself but more like… he should re-check his priorities?

He wouldn’t lie, what Adam had said during their beauty session had stuck with him.

_You hide all your memorable qualities._

Those words kept running non-stop at the back of his mind, leaving messy skid marks all over the place, refusing to go unnoticed.

Lance shook his head, trying to clear it to focus on the task at hand. He’d been too tired after his and Keith’s movie night to check out the rest of Adam’s gifts. Seeing as he barely got any sleep, he woke up early and used the spare time to unpack his bags. Apparently, their rooms had pull-out drawers and hanging space, you just had to know which panel to press. So, Lance had started hanging up his new clothes. At first, it was the usual stuff: T-shirts that would accentuate his broad shoulders, some sweatshirts and hoodies – there was this one maroon sweatshirt that looked especially comfy – skinny jeans to show off his legs.

But then he found the crop tops.

And at first, he thought Adam might have mixed up some of his bags with Pidge’s but after checking the size on the tags he was assured that nope, these were definitely for him.

There were halter tops, soft cotton crop-tops, one or two cropped hoodies with logos (the NASA one managed to coax a smile out of him). And then there were the high-waisted jeans, overalls, skirts, sheer tops with lace bralettes to match. Those he rose a brow at. There was no way these would fit.

But again, he was proven wrong. After nearly five minutes of contemplation, he decided to try one on, just to see. He paired a loose-fitting sheer top with a black lace bralette and artfully torn high-waisted jeans and it looked… it looked really good. It accentuated his shoulders and long neck and the bralette took away the worries of being too revealing. He thought it would poof out where cleavage was meant to fill the cups but it was perfectly fitted to his chest, no funny wrinkles in sight. It was light-weight and comfy, he could barely feel it. The jeans showed off his thighs and calves nicely, a leather belt cinching it at his thin waist. He added a black choker to finish off the look. He’d showered before all of this and had left his hair to air-dry, allowing it to curl naturally. His blue-brown eyes blinked back at him, trying to judge, to find a fault, to find a problem with this. But he couldn’t.

He looked good. He _felt_ good.

Lance let out a nervous chuckle, eyeing himself from different angles, a hesitant smile growing into a full on beam.

He was about ready to try on the next top when he heard a loud knock at his door.

“Lance, you awake?”

Hunk. Hunk always knocked if he was running late.

_Shit. Shit shit shit._

Unclipping the choker and dumping it on the sink, Lance started running around his room, scrounging together a new outfit.

“Uh, yeah man – _shit_ – I’m just, um, getting dressed!”

“Okay, don’t take too long though, Allura wants us on the bridge in five.”

For fuck’s sake.

He slipped off the sheer top and bralette, careful not to tear the delicate material, and replaced it with a plain white Tee.

“Got it. I’m right behind ya!”

“Alright. See you, man.”

Lance hopped over to the door, halfway with putting on new jeans, to listen to Hunk’s retreating steps. When he was sure Hunk was gone, he let out a heavy sigh.

“Phew…”

Leaning against the door, Lance finished putting on his jeans. He grabbed the nearest pair of socks – blue, with pizza slices on them – and shoes, tying the laces haphazardly.

He was about to run out the door when he realized he still needed to put on his concealer and contact lens. He scrambled to the bathroom, getting together his supplies, but when Lance looked at himself in the mirror, he hesitated. He didn’t have time to straighten his hair (that took a good half hour on a good day) and putting in his contact was also time-consuming.

He had to choose. Concealer or contact.

Lance bounced on the spot, trying to make a quick decision.

“Fuck it.”

He put in his contact, blinking until the uncomfortable feeling disappeared. Once he was sure it was okay, he checked his reflection one last time. His curls were a little frizzy in places and his freckles were on full display, splattered across his nose and cheekbones. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

He’d have to clean up the mess in his room later, he was already running late as is. He sprinted down the halls, holding onto corners to whip around them without slowing down. Butterflies were fluttering in his chest, nerves creeping up his spine, but they were the good kind of nerves, like that moment just before he’d go on stage with Rachel.

No one would probably notice anyway, but there was still that feeling of _what if_ running rampant in his brain.

 _Guess you’ll just have to find out,_ he thought as he neared the bridge, smiling of all things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nonbinary style Lance? Nonbinary style Lance.
> 
> [This](https://subtlehysteria.tumblr.com/post/181774052233) is Lance's outfit and if you guys want to see a bulleted list with more picture examples I made a post on my Tumblr which you can find [here.](https://subtlehysteria.tumblr.com/post/181773834793/so-on-my-last-chapter-for-what-we-want-cy666-aked)


	11. Constellations and Curls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Those freckles make you seem like a galaxy of stars, just waiting to be explored and loved_
> 
> – Nikita Gill
> 
> AKA Lance is pretty and Keith goes into catatonic Gay Panic™ mode.
> 
> Set during Part 2, Chapter 7: What Happens In Vegas, Stays In Vegas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For livingtrashcan05 who wanted to see Keith’s reaction to Lance’s new look from his POV ;)

Keith wasn’t one for dramatics. He didn’t see the point in wasting energy on something small or seemingly insignificant. For example, Lance’s stupid Voltron cheer. It just… it would be so much easier just saying the team name once then _bam!_ Done. (No, he was not still hung on this, shut up.) But then, of course, Lance just had to be the exception (Lance was becoming the exception to a lot of things lately but Keith wasn’t ready to analyze that just yet). As Adam would oh-so intelligently put it: karma is a fucking bitch.

That morning, Allura called for a team meeting on the bridge and, in typical Lance fashion, Lance arrived two doboshes late gasping for air with an exaggerated hand to his chest as if his heart was about to explode any second.

Usually, Keith would roll his eyes and focus on the mission but there was something about Lance that seemed different. At first, he pinned it on the new outfit but everyone was wearing the clothes Adam had bought them so what –

Adam dumped a bowl of food goo into a very gracious-looking Lance’s hands, saying something inaudible before ruffling his hair.

His hair. It was…

_Curly._

Keith had to stop himself from staring too obviously at Lance but it was kind of hard because since when did Lance have curly hair? His hair had always straight, even back at the Garrison. Whenever Lance would do his signature finger guns and wink routine he’d add a little hair flip to get the girls to giggle. Either that or he’d run his hand oh-so-smoothly through his fringe, only to allow it to fall back effortlessly into place.

Keith had always watched from afar, a scowl on his face at Lance’s antics, but also clenching his hands in the hem of his uniform jacket because… well, sometimes he found himself thinking what it would feel like to card through someone’s hair just because you could. Adam did it to Shiro’s fringe on more than one occasion (although it was usually with a remark on its ridiculousness). And there was Lance, constantly doing just that, either for show or simply because his wispy bangs got in his eyes while he was squinting at the board in class – and always with that thoughtful pout that he probably didn’t even realise he was doing.

Keith thought Lance’s hair was distracting enough. But now all of sudden you add salt-breeze curls and cowlicks all over the back of his head that looked kind of cute and, well… Keith may or may not be turning a little red.

Adam looked at him that exact moment with a knowing smile and immediately, Keith tore his gaze away from the two, focusing back on the task at hand. They were supposed to be making contact with the Blade of Marmora today and, to put it in layman’s terms: Keith was anxious.

For days (weeks? He hadn’t been keeping track of their time on the Castle) his dreams had been corroded by the imagery of himself in Galra armour, marching along with the rest of Zarkon’s army while the Emperor himself extended his hand, welcoming Keith to Empire.

Suffice to say, he’d been getting a lot better at the Gladiator simulation lately.

“-re a couple doboshes away now,” Adam said, bringing Keith back into the present.  
“I can’t wait to see their base!” Pidge said. She looked as excitable as always whenever it came to the prospect of new alien tech. Hunk only added to the nerd babble. On good days, it was tolerable to hear them rant but thanks to his limited sleep and overall anxiety, right now he wanted to lob a heavy-duty object at the two of them if it would mean a moment of quiet.

“What happened to your mullet?”

And just when Keith didn’t think this day couldn’t get any worse. Keith set his mouth into a scowl before looking up to Lance. He was leaning casually against Keith’s station chair, shit-eating grin on his face while chewing on a large sporkful of food goo. There was a piece in the corner of his mouth, yelling at Keith to point it out, but Keith was too busy trying not to look at Lance’s hair too obviously to care.

Self-consciously, Keith felt the small bun he’d put the top layers of his hair in. “Nothing,” he mumbled. “Just trying something different.”

At Lance’s unimpressed look Keith continued, “What happened to your hair.” You know, like an idiot.

Immediately, Lance’s face dropped. A hand flew to his hair, carding through the curls. Keith could feel the tips of his fingers tingle with want.

“I… I didn’t have time to straighten it,” Lance said, quiet, almost subdued. “I know it’s not great, you don’t have to rub it in.”

Wait, what?

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Aaaaand the cat’s out of the bag.

Lance blinked down at Keith as if he was something inexplicable stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“Huh?”

_Awesome job, Keith. Way to reel it in._

Keith cleared his throat, scratching at his now-burning cheek as he stuttered through an explanation. “I mean… it looks good.” _Shit._ “It… it suits you better this way.”

He waited for Lance to laugh at him, to make of fun of him for his lame compliment or brush him off like he always did.

Instead, Lance’s face went soft around the edges, mouth parted slightly in surprise. “Oh,” he said.

Oh? Keith just said probably the cheesiest line to ever come out of his mouth and all Lance had to say was ‘Oh’?

Before Keith could work up the courage to say something more – what, he didn’t know, just _something_ – they arrived at the base. Or rather, the outskirts of the base. It was heavily guarded by two black holes and a blue star.

Pidge started listing off facts, Hunk adding his own thoughts on the matter. Lance started giving running commentary alongside the already dizzying flow of scientific speech and that was when Keith’s patience started wearing thin. He gritted his teeth, tried to block the noise out but it was impossible with Lance being _right there_ and –

“Can you guys be quiet for just a second?!”

Lance, Pidge and Hunk all froze, turning three identical looks of shock at him. Keith could feel himself internally shrinking under their combined gazes, but he held fast, meeting their eyes with what Adam liked to call his _don’t mess with this bitch_ face. It worked on Pidge and Hunk, both muttering apologies, but when Keith turned his look to Lance he was met only with an arched brow.

No cocky smile, no stubborn pout, just that one thin brow raised in question and an indescribable look in Lance’s eyes.

Keith tore his gaze away before he could give into Lance.

“Coran, where’s the base located?” Keith asked, ignoring the feeling of Lance’s eyes on him.

“It’s smack bang in the middle of those three celestial objects,” Coran said, indicating the what now seemed to be the inaccessible Blade of Marmora base.

Great, another thing to add to the list of _why today sucks_.  
“It’s the perfect defensive position,” Pidge said.

Keith held back a smart comment of _yes, thank you for stating the obvious_. He tapped his fingers against his armrest, trying to figure out how they could break through the Blades’ protective layers when Allura spoke up.

“Or the perfect trap.”

Keith’s fingers stilled. No. There was no way Allura would pull them back now, not after all the effort –

“Yeah, uh, I kinda agree with Allura,” Hunk piped up. “Maybe we shouldn’t go in there, ya know for safety’s sake?”

_No. No no no no they can’t they can’t I have to get in there I have to know I have to –_

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”

Keith didn’t even realise he’d said it until everyone’s heads snapped to him. He could feel his chest rising and falling, anxiety creeping in, making his thoughts messy and too scrambled to differentiate between what he wanted to say and how he should say it.

“We have to go in!” _Please let me go._ “This is the whole reason we came out here!” _I need to know, this is the only way I can know._ “There is no other option.” _I don’t know how much longer I can go without knowing._

A white blur entered Keith’s field of vision.

“Keith?”

_Lance?_

“Calm down, buddy.”

_How? How can I –_

Keith focused on Lance, trying to ground himself, to find the words to explain. He could feel that familiar heat begin to thrum low in his stomach, anger bleeding into every nervous crack and making his chest feel excruciatingly tight.

Keith locked eyes with Lance and waited. Waited for him to flinch, to back down, to turn him over to Adam or Shiro. But Lance didn’t do any of those things. No, Lance stood there, eyes unyielding, never leaving Keith’s.

Keith latched onto that, tried to follow Lance’s breathing, the easy rise and fall of his chest. Slowly, the heat in his veins sizzled out, the vice-like grip around his chest slackening, allowing cool air to enter his lungs. He rubbed his thumb along his index finger, finding comfort in the repetition of the movement, in the familiarity of his leather glove.

Lance’s lips parted as if he was about to say something when a voice rang through the speakers.

After that, Keith could only really focus several seconds at a time. He got the basics: the Blades knew they were here; they were granted access; only two could enter; no weapons. At the end of the exchange, Keith’s breathing was finally back to normal, his arms crossed to give some semblance of security.

Shiro was obviously going, he was the leader, it was expected. Only one other Paladin could go with him and Keith was silently praying _me, please let it be me, I need to go, I need to know -  
_

“Keith, you’re coming with me.”

Keith let out the tiniest of relieved sighs. Finally, something was going right.

“KEITH?”

Until it wasn’t.

“You’re gonna choose _Keith_?!” Lance screeched as if it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard.

“You got a problem with that?” Keith spat. It was habit by now, it was _them_ and he always took the bait even though he hated it.

Lance pursed his lips in that childish pout of his, the one that said _I’m not getting what I want and you’re going to suffer for it_. “Yeah, actually, I do! Remember what happened on Olkarion with the king? Huh?”

Oh, here we go.

“I was thinking on the spot!” Keith growled, leaning into Lance’s space.

Lance leaned in as well, their foreheads bumping at this point. “You held a sword to his throat!”

Keith’s entire face scrunched up so tight, it was almost painful. “At least I did something unlike you who –”

Keith’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his words draining along with any common sense because Lance… Lance had freckles. _Lots_ of them.

They were dusted along the bridge of Lance’s nose like icing sugar, fanning out onto those sharp cheekbones. They were prominent, begging to be noticed, to be admired. So how come Keith had never noticed them before?

_What else are you hiding, Lance?_

At Keith’s sudden silence, Lance frowned. At least, Keith thought he frowned. He was too close to see Lance’s face clearly, rather feeling his forehead crease against his own, felt the tip of his nose brush Keith’s as it crinkled in confusion.

“What?” Lance asked.

Keith must have been hypnotized. That was the only explanation for why he raised a finger and poked a particularly large freckle on Lance’s cheek. It looked like a lopsided heart.

“Freckles…” he whispered.

And that was all he could say for himself. All other words in his vocabulary suddenly vanished. Poof. Gone. Nonexistent.

The only words that could compute were _Lance, pretty_ and _freckles._

He registered movement in the corner of his eyes, could hear people talking around him but he just couldn’t stop staring.

His Pop used to get freckles on his shoulders working in the small cacti garden in their backyard. When Keith asked about them, his Pop smiled, wiping the sweat out of his eyes as he kneeled down to Keith’s level.

“They’re freckles,” he explained voice gruff but soft thanks to his smile. “Though my mama used to call ‘em angel kisses.”

Young Keith had frowned at that, not understanding how such strange spots could be considered something angelic or heavenly but looking at Lance now, those dancing constellations of deep coffee-ground brown, that one lopsided heart on his cheekbone, he got it.

Angel kisses. It was the only explanation for something so ethereal hidden in plain sight.

Eventually, Keith snapped out of it enough to allow Shiro to tug him off the bridge. Somehow, he managed to get his armour on and start the journey towards the Blades’ base in Red. However, that image, that frozen moment where Lance’s curls fell into his eyes, mouth slightly parted with a quiet _oh_ and his freckles now prominent, proudly on display, played on a loop in his mind’s eye.

Keith sighed, heavy and resigned.

Adam was right, karma truly was a fucking bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda headcanon that a lot of Keith's anger-issue image comes from his anxiety and him being unable to voice it properly because he's always depended on only himself and so he kinda just... bottles it all up until he explodes. Yeah...
> 
> I'm sorry for the angst but I hope the fluff made up for it? Let me know what you think in the comments!


	12. Courting 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith drops Kolivan and Antok off back at the BOM base but not before gaining a little insight on Galra mating culture
> 
> Set during Part 2, Chapter 8: We’re Doing What Now?!

“How long have you and the loud one been courting?”

Keith frowned, peeking up at Antok out of the corner of his eye. He must have heard that wrong. “What?”

Antok shrugged. “The loud one? You are courting him, no?”

Keith froze, mouth opening and closing until he managed to spurt out, “No, what – um – what gave you that idea?”

“He was in your mindscape,” Kolivan said.

“So was Adam and Shiro.”

“But they are your caretakers. The loud one on the other hand –”

Keith growled, hands tightening on his controls. “His name is Lance.”

Kolivan tilted his head, just slightly. Keith had noticed that it was the only indication Kolivan ever gave when he was intrigued.

“He also stood at your side without prompting,” Kolivan continued.

“I don’t know why he did that,” Keith grumbled. “He doesn’t usually do that.”

“Then what does he usually do?” Antok asked.

Keith scoffed. “Aren’t you supposed to hate me? What happened to ‘we will meet again’?”

Antok clapped his hand on Keith’s shoulder. One twist and it probably would have popped right out of its socket. “You have proven yourself a mighty swordsman. With a little training, you could be a proper Blade.”

Keith blinked in surprise, looking up at Kolivan for confirmation. Kolivan gave a brusque nod in reply.

“Uhhh, thanks, I guess,” Keith said.

Antok removed his hand, straightening up. “Now, back to your mate.”

“Will you stop calling him that?” Keith sighed.

“Is that not the term you humans use?” Kolivan asked.

Keith shook his head. “No, um, depending on your partner’s gender its either girlfriend or boyfriend, or partner if they identify as nonbinary, I think.”

“That sounds too complicated,” Antok scoffed. “Mate is far more suitable.”

“Call it what you want, Lance isn’t my mate,” Keith said.

Antok leaned down, catching Keith’s eye and giving him a smirk. “But you want him to be.”

“NO I DON’T!” Keith yelled, knocking Antok’s shoulder with his own. “And stop distracting me unless you want to burn to a crisp.”

“You won’t let that happen,” Kolivan said. “You are an exemplary pilot.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Oh, so now that I’m suddenly part Galra you guys are being nice to me?”

“You are not ‘suddenly’ part Galra,” Kolivan said. “You always have been.”

“And I wouldn’t say we are being nice,” Antok added. “More… interested in your wellbeing.”

“You mean my non-existent love life,” Keith drawled.

“Well…”

Keith huffed, keeping his eyes trained on the windshield as he said, “Look, Lance and I are rivals. Or at least, to him we are. We’re teammates at the most and that’s not gonna change any time soon. And besides… he likes Allura.”

“They would not make an equal match,” Antok said.

“Agreed,” Kolivan said.

“Why not?” Keith asked because, okay, maybe he was a little bit intrigued.

“You should be focusing less on your competition and more on how you are going to win over your mate,” Antok said.

Keith stomped his foot in frustration. “He’s not my mate!”

“Yet,” Antok said. Keith could hear the smugness in his voice.

Keith waited for another round of embarrassment, but when Antok made no indication that he was going to continue, Keith sighed with relief. 

The thing about Keith was that he knew he’d never liked girls, not in the way his foster brothers did anyway. But he’d never really found any interest in guys either. That is… until he saw Lance. (He would say when he first _met_ Lance, but Keith never had the luxury of being able to just go up to people and introduce himself. That was more Lance’s thing.)

It was hard not to notice him, back at the Garrison. Lance was loud and charismatic. Keith would always see him chatting to a new group of people before class or during lunch. But every time he looked at Keith he’d get this furrow to his brow. His lips would purse, eyes narrow as if one look alone could knock Keith down. It didn’t, and it also didn’t lessen Keith’s interest. If anything, it just made him more curious (and frustrated). Why, out of all the people Lance talked to, he had to look at Keith like _that_. Like he’d personally insulted him or something. Keith had probably thought about it for hours, trying to pick apart where he’d gone wrong. What did he do to Lance that warranted such a look?

Even now, Lance would still shoot him dagger-eyes and challenge him to the stupidest of competitions. It was better than when they first started but it still wasn’t what Keith wanted. Dating was out of the question, though, was something Keith didn't even consider as an option. Lance was the ‘ladies man’, everyone knew it, and he still constantly flirted with Allura.

But there was that small part of his brain that would rerun the smiles Lance gave him. The jabs that were more banter than bite, their movie night and how Lance threw his head back laughing at some or other comment Keith had made. He was charming and yeah, his jokes were lame but more often than not Keith would find himself smiling at them. And his freckles. Keith still couldn’t get over the fact that Lance had freckles. And then he had to go and wear eyeliner this morning as well and - 

Antok gave Keith an appraising look, waiting for something.

_I can’t believe I’m doing this._

“If – and this is a very big if – If I were to try, um, court him, how would I do that in Galra tradition?”

Antok broke into a wicked grin, his tail flickering. “Well first, you have to state your intentions.”

“You mean I should tell him how I feel?” Keith asked.

“Yes.”

“Nope. Not happening.”

Antok huffed. “You humans are so complicated.”

“At least I’m not as bad as Shiro and Adam.”

“I am very confused by those two,” Antok said. “Are they mates?”

“They were once, but then they broke up and now… Now I don’t know what they are. I don’t think they know either.” Keith frowned. He ran his thumb along his index finger, focusing on the movement. “I hope they figure it out soon.”

“For their sake and yours, so do I,” Kolivan said.

“Now, back to the courting rituals,” Antok said.

Keith flung his head back, giving a low disgruntled moan. “I’m not telling Lance how I feel!”

“Then why not give him gifts?”

“Gifts?”

“Yes,” Antok said. He stroked his chin in thought, ruffling the downy fur along his jaw. “You could always give him the carcass of a freshly caught prey. Or maybe present the head of his enemy on a platter. There’s also –”

“Um... I don’t think that’s Lance’s style.”

Antok frowned. “Then what do you think he would appreciate?”

“I don’t know –”

“Don’t lie,” Antok said. “Think.”

Keith blew a raspberry in frustration. He looked to Kolivan, silently pleading for help. Kolivan took that moment to examine the stars, totally unavailable.

“I don’t know what he likes,” Keith said. “I mean… he talks about his family a lot.”

“And?” Antok prompted.

“He’s always watching videos on his phone or looking at pictures,” Keith continued. “I’m guessing it's family stuff because I usually hear Spanish.”

At Antok’s confused look Keith explained, “It’s one of Earth’s languages.”

“Do you speak it?”

“No. Though I kinda I wish I did…” At least so he could understand what Adam and Lance were talking about half the time. “Anyway, he misses them a lot. And Cuba, where he grew up.”

“Perhaps you could give him something that will represent a piece of his home?”

Keith huffed a short laugh. “I don’t think there are any beach shacks hanging around here.”

“You’re making this very difficult,” Antok grumbled.

“I’m just being realistic!”

“You’re looking for excuses,” Kolivan said. He gave Keith a sideways glance before turning his eyes back to the stars.

“I don’t know,” Keith said. “Maybe if he had a family portrait in his room to look at?”

“Are you able to conjure up such an image?” Antok asked.

“Well, I’ve seen it enough times during our mind-melding exercises I could probably draw it from memory.”

“You draw?” Kolivan asked. He suddenly looked very interested, his eyes flickering to Antok’s before resting back on Keith.

“Yeah… a bit,” Keith said. “Why, is that weird or something?”

“No,” Kolivan said, head snapping forwards. “It just reminds me of someone.”

Keith waited, hoping Kolivan would elaborate, but his face morphed back into its stoic mask.

“Then why not draw his family portrait?” Antok asked. “He might appreciate it.”

Keith shrugged. “I don’t know –”

Antok grumbled under his breath. The language was a mix of hard g’s and k’s, but Keith could also make out the occasional word such as _impossible_ and _stubborn_.

“I’ll think about it,” Keith said if only to stop Antok’s dramatics.

Antok stopped mid-grumble, that smug smile returning. “Good. I think he will appreciate it.”

They were nearing the barrier now, Red giving a low grumble of discontent upon nearing the base. Keith sent her imagery of soft strokes, his hands running along imaginary fur. Red’s grumbling turned into a low rumble of satisfaction.

“We’ll see,” Keith murmured.

Keith landed Red in the same spot as the day before. There were already two Blade members waiting outside for Kolivan and Antok.

“Keith,” Kolivan said. Keith swivelled around in his chair, meeting Kolivan’s eyes. “Antok was right in saying you would make a fine Blade. If you ever wish to train with us, know that you are welcome.”

“Thank you,” Keith said, a little silted with surprise.

Kolivan nodded. He drew up his hood, his mask reappearing. While he exited the cockpit, Antok remained behind. His arms were folded across his broad chest, head tilted appraisingly.

“Remember what I told you, kit.”

“It’s Keith.”

“Whatever you say, kit.”

Keith growled, hands bunching into tight fists. “Are you going or?”

Antok raised his hands in surrender, lips twitching with amusement. His mask formed, distorting his voice as he said, “You have a greater chance than you think.”

Before Keith could ask him what he meant, Antok was gone, leaving Keith alone in the cockpit with nothing but the memories of a charming boy and far too many questions unanswered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pining Garrison Keith? Pining Garrison Keith
> 
> Little side note: I headcanon that Keith is demi-homosexual. It's not a major thing you need to know to understand the plot but I like to think that Galra also only ever have one true mate and that that plays a little into Keith's feelings as well.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys liked Antok's little intervention and let's hope Keith takes his advice ;)


	13. Purple And Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gives Keith a pep talk before their separate missions
> 
> Set during Part 2, Chapter 8: We’re Doing What Now?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who wanted to know what Lance said to Keith before Keith went on his mission ;)

Lance didn’t know what made him do it. Keith had just been standing there by himself and he’d looked so… small. It was so different in comparison to the fiery, short-tempered guy he considered his rival – or did consider his rival. Lately, he wasn’t too sure.

Anyway, there was just something about him, how Keith refused to look anyone in the eye, how he’d bundled himself up in what was probably Shiro’s hoodie and Lance hated it. He hated how defeated Keith looked. And so, for whatever reason, Lance had found himself strolling on over and standing next to Keith during the briefing because if he wasn’t going to do it, who would?

And then Keith had done that whole pinching of his sleeve thing… Lance still couldn’t figure out what was up with that. But it had made him feel better if he was gonna be honest.

So then he got to thinking, shouldn’t he return the favour? And that’s how he found himself approaching Keith in Yellow’s hangar, minutes away from having to fly off on a prison break mission of all things.

“Hey man.”

Keith’s head lifted slightly, his eyes shaded by his bangs. “Hey.”

_Good start. Good start._

“Listen, um, I just wanted to say that –”

Keith brushed his bangs away, his eyes finally meeting Lance’s and _woah_. Have they always been that purple?

“Uh… yes?”

Lance winced. “I asked that out loud.”

Keith nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. “Yes.”

“Cool, alright, moving on! Uh –”

“Lance,” Keith sighed. “What do you want?”

Lance took a deep breath, turning his helmet over in his hands. “I just wanted to say that Galra or not, you’re still a Paladin. You’re still Keith.”

Keith ducked his head again, scuffing his shoe. “Allura doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Yeah… It’s probably gonna take a little getting used to for her.”

“I know,” Keith said, “But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

 _Shit._ Shit because his voice was wobbling near the end there and Lance has to hold back a growl because this just wasn’t Keith.

“Yeah... But honestly? That’s something she needs to sort out.”

“What do you mean?”

Lance shrugged, continuing to roll his helmet over and over. “Well, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just being you.”

“But Allura hates that.”

“Nope,” Lance said, shaking his head. “Nope, she hates this warped idea she’s made up in her head.”

Keith blew a piece of fringe out his eyes, “Yeah, well it doesn’t take away from the fact that she can barely look at me. Or even talk to me. I mean, you saw what happened in there, right?”

Lance nodded because he couldn’t lie about that. Everyone had felt the tension between Allura and Keith. It was stretched thin like a worn-out elastic, begging to be cut. Adam had tried but it didn’t take away the scathing look Allura had shot at Keith, how her voice had morphed into something mean and ugly.

At that moment, Lance had felt a sense of whiplash, how quickly Allura’s demeanour had changed between Hunk and Keith.

He may or may not have been silently cursing through that moment. He also may or may not have wanted to pinch Keith’s sleeve as well, to offer some kind of grounding. But he didn’t and now here was Keith already beginning to accept his fate.

Lance pinched his lips into a thin line, still turning his helmet over and over. “Yeah. Yeah, I saw. And you’re right, it doesn’t.”

Keith said nothing, but his eyes said everything.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Lance tucked his helmet under one arm and reached out, placing his hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Listen, Keith. I can’t promise that everything is gonna be bright and dandy tomorrow. But what I can promise is that I’m here and I’m not going to let you be treated like shit because of something you can’t control.”

Keith’s mouth parted, a tiny gasp escaping. Lance squeezed Keith’s shoulder, both for reassurance and to keep himself steady.

“We’re all here for you. We’re a team.”

“I thought I was your rival,” Keith said, the word ‘rival’ sounding bitter and sad.

“Not anymore,” Lance said. And he meant it. “We’re teammates. Teammates protect one another, right?”

Keith hesitated before giving a slow nod.

Lance smiled. “You’re still our emo samurai. A little splash of purple isn’t gonna change that.”

Keith huffed, but the curl of his mouth was amused and Lance knew he’d at least done a little something right.

He dropped his hand, gripping onto his helmet to give it something to do because wow, he’s shaking.

“Lance!”

Lance looked over his shoulder, finding an impatient Pidge tapping her wrist. He swivelled back to face Keith. The curl was gone, his face neutral, but Lance could see that his eyes were a little clearer. They were like nebulas or something. Maybe it was a Galra thing. Maybe it was a Keith thing.

“Good luck, buddy,” Lance said, giving one final smile before spinning on his heel and jogging over to Pidge.

He may have looked back, watched as Keith stomped up Yellow’s ramp and ram his helmet onto his head. It wasn’t angry though. Lance didn’t know what it was, but it caused something in his chest to bloom.

“Laaaaaance!”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!”

When he sat in the cockpit, hands on the controls and eyes set for Beta Traz, he couldn’t help but play that look in Keith’s eyes over and over again.

He didn’t know what that look meant, but he figured with time and probably a lot of work, he’d be able to read Keith like an open book.

He grinned, activating Blue’s thrusters and shooting through the stars.

_Challenge accepted._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance is so gone and he doesn't even know it smh
> 
> Also guys I'm sorry if I'm making Allura seem like a villain of some sorts, she's not gonna be like this forever and she is gonna learn to accept Keith, don't worry x


	14. A Night To Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk takes Shay out on a date. It goes as well as you'd think.
> 
> Set during Part 2, Chapter 9: Bitch Why You Lyin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys its fate, its chapter 14, I’m posting it on the 14th aka Valentine’s Day. I just love coincidental stuff like that. Okay, carry on.

“Buddy, you look great.”

Hunk twisted and turned, checking his every angle in the floor-length mirror Lance had borrowed from Allura.

“I don’t know, you don’t think it’s too much?” Hunk asked, tugging his blazer sleeves down for the nth time.

Lance slapped his hand away. “No. It’s casual, classy and comfy. The perfect combo for a first date.”

Hunk wanted to object, to say no, this was not a date, but the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that yeah, okay, maybe this was a date. Shay had video-called him asking if he’d be able to visit tonight before he left for Olkarion. And Hunk being Hunk had jumped at the chance because Shay had asked so nicely with that sweet smile and her cheeks had glowed that enchanting golden hue and Hunk was weak, okay. (And besides, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see Shay in person again.)

He’d felt a little bad asking Allura if they could stay the night, especially after her and Adam’s fight. But surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly), Allura had said yes. So here Hunk was, fidgeting as he stared down his reflection, already beginning to sweet he was so nervous.

“Tell me again why I can’t wear my headband?” Hunk asked.

Lance huffed. “Because it doesn’t go with the outfit.”

After stressing over outfit choices for half a Varga on his own, Hunk had given in and asked Lance for his help and he had to admit, Lance had done a good job. He’d chosen beige chinos that hugged Hunk’s legs nicely without being too constricting, brown leather dress shoes, a white button-up shirt and to top it off: a navy-blue velvet blazer. (“Isn’t the velvet a bit much?” “Not when it comes to you buddy.”) His hair was gelled back, leaving his forehead bare without his statement headband.

Hunk’s phone alarm went off, signalling that he had ten minutes to get to Shay’s.

Hunk started getting his things together, Lance following him around and making final adjustments.

“Okay, Lance I gotta go –”

“Just one more thing!” Lance said. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of Hunk’s shirt, allowing a not-too-deep V of his chest to show.

“There,” Lance said. He appraised Hunk, looking him up and down. “I now officially dub you ready.”

Hunk gave a nervous smile. “Thanks, man, for the help.”

“You’re welcome, buddy,” Lance said. “Now give me a hug and then get your ass down there before you’re late.”

Hunk enveloped Lance in a hug, lifting him slightly off his feet before gently putting him down. “You’re the best.”

Lance rolled his eyes, making shooing motions. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Now get going!”

With a thumbs up, Hunk grabbed his food basket and started towards the elevators. He’d considered taking Yellow but decided to rather stay discrete than make a big fanfare of it all. The last thing he needed was a crowd of Balmerans to follow him and Shay around on their date.

 _Not a date,_ he chastised himself, even as he triple checked that his food was secured properly in its basket.

When Coran heard that Hunk was going to visit Shay, he’d taken Hunk to the side and talked him through the traditional Balmeran customs and etiquette. The Balmerans’ customs surrounded mostly food and family, those being their greatest values in life. So, number one: When one wishes to pay a visit, the courter must bring a home-made dish for the entire family to eat. The dish is supposed to represent the courter and their family.

Now, Hunk was limited in terms of ingredients. He’d rummaged through the Castle pantry, running recipes rapidly through his head as he took stock of what he had to work with. It was when he came across the Olkarion hneught that an idea formed.

Hunk’s Tina couldn’t so much as step inside the kitchen without causing something to either explode or catch alight, so Hunk’s Mama did most of the cooking at home. She was a pastry chef meaning desserts were her speciality. Hunk had grown to favour them as well during their cooking lessons. Mama was never afraid to experiment and she was always looking for new recipes to try and incorporate into her repertoire. So, when Tina had described Fa’ausi, Mama had taken it upon herself to recreate Tina’s childhood dessert for her birthday.

Hunk remembered Mama frantically searching through recipes, comparing them and testing them whenever Tina was at work. Hunk had been Mama’s taste-tester and sous chef, meaning he was there every step of the way and knew the recipe like the back of his hand.

Fa’ausi was comprised of two parts: fa’apapa (coconut bread) and a coconut caramel sauce. Now, obviously, Hunk didn’t have coconuts but he _did_ have the Olkarion equivalent: hneught. When Reiner had presented the nut, Hunk had almost cried. It was smooth on the outside, roughly the size of an ostrich egg, and had to be cracked with a specific hammer and chisel set. Inside was a milk-white juice along with pink flesh that lined the skin in thick layers. It tasted almost exactly like coconut, with an added after-zest of lemon. Hunk knew as soon as he laid eyes on his left-over stash of hneughts that he was going to be making Fa’ausi.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to make coconut milk from the flesh as the fruit already provided its own. There was still some leftover butter from the batch he and Lance had made from Kalternecker’s milk and with Coran’s help, he’d managed to scrounge together flour and sugar substitutes. What would have taken thirty minutes in the oven to bake the bread took ten due to the magic that was Altean technology. The caramel sauce had come out perfectly, treacle-thick and just the right amount of sticky. Once the bread had cool, he’d cut the loaf into small cubes and poured the sauce over, mixing it all so that every piece was coated in caramel. Usually, the bread would have to soak for an hour but in less than twenty ticks, every last drop had been absorbed by the bread. For the finishing touch, Hunk had grated some left-over hneught, sprinkling the delicate pink curls over the dessert. Once deemed edible by Pidge’s scanner and taste-tested, Hunk had pronounced them perfect and ready to serve. He just prayed that Balmerans weren’t allergic to hneughts.

Caught in his thoughts, Hunk found himself outside Shay’s home in the blink of an eye. Rather than stay in their underground burrow, Shay and her family had decided to move to the surface. With the Balmera fully healed, it could recreate the homes once lost during the millennia-long Galra occupation. Large mounds were hollowed out, creating dome-shaped huts for the Balmerans who chose to live above ground. A hole in the ceiling allowed for fire smoke to escape and, when not occupied, provided a perfect view of the stars.

Hunk hesitated outside Shay’s home. He could see the flickering firelight, laughter echoing. He rocked back and forth on his heels, breathing deeply.

“You’ve got this. It’s just dinner with the family, no biggie, no – Oh, hey, Shay!”

During Hunk’s personal pep talk, Shay had magically appeared at his side, blinking down at him in amusement.

“Hello, Hunk,” she said. Hunk had to take a moment to steady his breathing. Shay looked _amazing._ Her once tattered clothing was replaced with a Grecian style tunic. It was deep purple with a golden thread running along the hems. Tied at the waist with a thick rope and knotted artfully in the front, the ends to ran down in golden twirls, stopping mid-calf.

“Wow,” Hunk finally said. “You – um, your dress, you is – wow.”

Shay’s cheeks bloomed gold, bone earrings jangling as she ducked her head. “Why thank you. You look very fine as well.”

“Thanks, Lance helped me out,” Hunk admitted.

Shay tilted her head, bending at the waist to observe Hunk’s blazer. “What a strange fabric.”

Hunk pursed his lips, trying not to fidget under Shay’s careful eye. “It’s, uh, velvet.”

“Velvet,” Shay said slowly, tasting the word. She pronounced the _v_ like an _f_ , giving it a softer quality. “How interesting.”

Hunk nodded, not knowing what else to say.

“Shay, is this one joining us?” Shay’s gran-gran appeared in the doorway, smiling knowingly.

“Hello,” Hunk said. “Yes, if I am welcome?”

“Of course!” gran-gran exclaimed. “Shay’s friends are always welcome, especially one so handsome as yourself.”

Hunk could feel his cheeks begin to burn. “T-thank you.”

Gran-gran tutted, ushering them through the doorway. “Come, join us.”

Shay ducked to fit through the open doorway. Hunk, being shorter than the average Balmeran, was able to walk straight through. He clutched his basket tightly to his chest, releasing a shaky breath.

So far, so good.

“Ah, Paladin Hunk! Welcome. Shay said you would be joining us.” Shay’s father stood from his place at the fire, walking over to Hunk. Hunk placed his basket down, offering two hands. Shay’s father tilted his head appraisingly before taking Hunk’s hands and giving one firm shake.

Number two: when greeting the male head of the family, firmly grasp both hands and shake. Your grip must showcase your strength and you must maintain eye contact to show respect, only breaking away when the head of the family does.

“This one has studied our customs,” Shay’s father said, releasing Hunk’s hands and giving him an encouraging smile.

“Then he must know of the sparting,” gran-gran said.

Hunk froze, eyes widening in horror. “Sparting?”

Gran-gran nodded sagely. “Yes, the sparting. A very important custom.”

Hunk could feel the sweat beginning to gather at the back of his neck, dripping down his back. Coran never mentioned sparting.

After a tense moment of silence, gran-gran broke into a fit of laughter, slapping her knee as she wheezed out, “This one’s face!”

Shay’s mother came to Hunk’s side, holding his elbow lightly. “Pay her no mind. Gran-gran loves to tease.”

Hunk gave a nervous chuckle, shoulders losing some of their tension. “Quite the trickster, aren’t you?”

Gran-gran clutched her chest, letting out her final huff of laughter before settling down on a stone seat. “Ah, at my age, one must allow for some mischief.”

Hunk nodded along, thinking of his late grandfather. He was always playing pranks, giving Hunk ideas on how to get back at some of the bullies at school. Hunk hadn’t actually gone through with any of them, but if Lance or Pidge ever got their hands on so much as one of his grandfather’s secrets, the Castle would certainly become a madhouse.

“What is that you bring?” Shay asked. At Hunk’s confused look Shay gestured to his feet. Hunk looked down to find his basket.

“Oh! Um, I prepared a dessert,” Hunk said.

“I like this one,” Shay’s mother said, giving Hunk’s elbow a squeeze before joining her husband at the fire.

Shay’s cheeks bloomed gold. “Shall we?” she asked.

Hunk nodded, picking up his basket and bringing it with him as Shay led him to the fire. It was similar to their set-up back when Coran and Hunk first visited. A fire surrounded by rocks that had been carved to create seats. Hunk was worried he might not fit, but thanks to the Balmerans’ height, the seat was a perfect fit, allowing Hunk to sit comfortably.

Gran-gran was busy handing out bowls of stew when Hunk spotted the empty seat at her side. “Where’s your brother?” he asked.

“Working late,” Shay said. “He is an apprentice with one of the crafters.”

Hunk let out a silent breath of relief. _One less family member to impress._

“Oh, so you guys make things out of the crystals?” Hunk asked.

Shay nodded. “It was how Balmerans made their wares if they were to ever go off-planet.”

“Mostly jewellery, wedding gifts, the like,” Shay’s mother said. “Other-worlders find Balmeran crystals entrancing.”

“They really are,” Hunk said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than the light hitting the crystals at sunrise.”

Shay’s father wiped his mouth before saying, “Shay, you must show this one the Night Glow.”

“I was planning to,” Shay said.

“What’s the Night Glow?” Hunk asked, looking between Shay and her father.

“It is best experienced,” gran-gran said. “Now, finish your stew so we may try your ‘dessert’.”

Thankfully, this stew was bug-free, allowing Hunk to enjoy the earthy taste without worrying about finding a six-legged swimmer in his bowl.

Once everyone was finished, the bowls were cleaned and handed to Hunk, who distributed the Fa’ausi evenly between them all.

He didn’t touch his, too anxious as he watched Shay and her family sniff at the dessert. Gran-gran was the first to try it, chewing thoughtfully, her wrinkled lips pursed. She swallowed thickly, turning her heavy gaze onto Hunk.

Hunk held his breath.

Gran-gran waited, making sure she held the entire room’s attention before saying, “This one’s cooking is astounding. Dig in.”

With gran-gran’s approval, the rest of the family began eating the dessert, all of them humming with delight.

“Hunk,” Shay said, “I’ve never had anything like this. What do you call such a flavour?”

“It’s, um, called sweet,” Hunk said, finally taking a bite of his own. “I based it on a Samoan dessert. It’s my Tina’s favourite.”

“I think it may be mine as well,” Shay giggled.

Hunk grinned, licking off the sticky caramel sauce from his fingers. “That’s good to hear.”

Everyone was just polishing off their desserts when Rax came running through the doorway. “Pardon me for my impertinence,” he said, bowing his head.

Shay’s father nodded sagely. “It is alright. But next time do not miss the meal.”

Rax gave another bow before straightening. His eyes settled on Hunk and narrowed. “No one told me this one would be joining.”

“You were at the crafter’s,” Shay said.

Rax’s eyes narrowed further, allowing for a bare strip of yellow to peek out between his eyelids. “Did he give the proper greeting?”

“Yes, and offered us a dish from his family,” Shay’s mother said. “We saved you some.”

Rax walked over to his mother, eyes never leaving Hunk as he sat down and took the bowl. He sniffed at it warily before picking up the smallest piece and popping it into his mouth. His face immediately smoothed out. He licked his lips. Gran-gran gave a mischievous smile.

“Well?” she prompted.

Rax’s face hardened as he looked to Hunk. “I suppose you will do,” he said before digging into his dessert.

Shay laid a hand on Hunk’s knee, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Let us make haste while he is distracted.”

“Shouldn’t we help clean up?” Hunk asked, even though he was already beginning to stand.

Shay shook her head. “They will not mind. Come.” She grabbed his hand, leading him out of the hut in a brisk walk.

Hunk had to jog to keep up with Shay’s long legs, but once she deemed them far enough away, she slowed down, letting out a breathy laugh.

“My apologies,” she said. “My brother might have insisted on escorting us had he been given the chance.”

That reminded Hunk of rule number three: any outing should be chaperoned by one of the Balmeran’s family members. Although it seemed Shay was a modern woman.

“Shall we?” she asked.

“We shall,” Hunk said, giving Shay’s hand a squeeze as they began to walk.

Hunk didn’t really know where they were going, he was too busy laughing at Shay’s stories or telling his own to pay attention. He was in the middle of explaining what ice-cream was made of when Shay suddenly gasped.

She tugged at Hunk’s hand, beginning to run. “We must make haste or we’ll miss it!”

“Miss what?” Hunk asked, huffing and puffing as he tried to keep up.

“The Night Glow,” Shay said.

It was only as they were cresting the hill did Hunk realise it was the same spot they had sat at when watching Shay’s first sunrise together. Shay sat down, patting the spot next to her. Hunk settled at her side, looking out to the valley below them. It was dark, the stars winking up at them from their perches in the sky.

After sitting in silence for a full dobosh Hunk broke the quiet.

“What are we waiting for?” he whispered.

“You’ll see,” Shay said. “Any tick now.”

Hunk smiled at Shay’s eagerness, how she was bouncing lightly in her seat in anticipation. When her eyes lit up, her mouth gasping to form a small _o_ , only then did Hunk look out to the valley. He couldn’t help his own gasp at the sight.

The valley, once dark and filled with shadows, was now lit by the crystals scattered across its surface. Light representing every colour in the rainbow danced across the valley, each crystal glowing in a slightly different shade from the last. The lights melted into one another, connecting one crystal’s thrumming glow with its neighbour’s and on and on and on until they were all joined together into one giant constellation.

And that was only the beginning.

Hunk watched as beams of light erupted from each crystal, shooting up into the sky to create streaks of every colour imaginable. They dance, floating through the air like streamers in the wind. It was like watching a watercolour painting come to life, an invisible brush adding layers upon layers of paint until the entire sky was filled to the brim. No piece of the darkened sky could be seen, only the stars being able to shine through, adding to the light show.

“Woah…”

Shay hummed in agreement.

“Does this happen every night?” Hunk whispered, eyes never leaving the sky.

“Once every phoeb,” Shay corrected. “That was why I hoped you would visit tonight.”

“Was that the only reason?” Hunk asked, sneaking a peek at Shay.

And there was that golden blush. “No, not the only reason.”

Hunk smiled to himself, tilting his head up and allowing himself to get lost in the sky.

The Night Glow did not last very long, maybe a Varga at the most. Hunk watched with a slight sadness as the colours receded back into their crystals, their glow dimming until it was snuffed out entirely. The strokes of light faded into the darkness of the night, leaving no trace of their existence.

Hunk sighed. “That was… I don’t know how to describe it, it was…”

“Magical?” Shay offered.

Hunk nodded. “Yeah, yeah that’s a good word for it.”

“This is the third time in millennia that the Night Glow has occurred,” Shay said. “Gran-gran told me stories that she’d heard from her own grandparents, about colours dancing through the sky. I barely knew what the sky looked like, let alone could imagine so many colours.” She finally looked away from the sky, catching Hunk’s eye. “I would never have been able to witness this had it not been for you.”

Hunk took in a shaky breath. “I…”

Shay raised a hand, stopping him. “I almost forgot.” She dug through the folds of her skirt, hand disappearing into a pocket before she found what she was looking for. Shay clasped her hands together tightly, offering them to Hunk. Hunk opened his hands, palm up.

“Close your eyes,” Shay whispered. Hunk did so, only flinching slightly when something cold dropped into his hands.

“You may open them.”

Hunk cracked one eye open, then the other, looking down at the gift in his hands. It was a necklace; a leather band with a round stone pendant in the center. Pressed into the stone were small Balmeran crystals, creating the shape of a lion’s paw.

Hunk could feel tears begin to well in his eyes, overcome with delight and then panic. Coran hadn’t said anything about gifts. Had he missed another step? Was Shay going to be insulted that he didn’t have anything to give her in return? Oh Stars what if –

“Hunk?” Shay laid a hand on Hunk’s arm, coaxing him away from his worries.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Hunk managed to say.

Shay gave a sweet smile, shaking her head. “I wanted to give you this so you may always have a piece of the Balmera with you.”

Hunk took Shay’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “It’ll always be with me,” he said. “You helped me realise what it means to be a Paladin. I can never thank you enough for that.”

Shay blinked rapidly and Hunk watched in awe as a golden tear streaked down her cheek. She gave a wet laugh. “Does that mean you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” Hunk said. “Could you help me?”

Shay nodded, taking the necklace and helping fasten it around Hunk’s neck. He looked down at it, thumb idly stroking over the crystals.

He smiled up at Shay, a few tears of his own beginning to fall.

Shay sniffled, smiling as Hunk wiped away another golden tear. She caught his hand. “Do you know what the _fílima_ is?” she asked.

Hunk wracked his brains, trying to think back to Coran’s lesson. When it clicked, his mouth parted in shock. Wait was Shay? Shay was – Holy mother of all Stars she –

Hunk nodded, not trusting his words.

Shay’s smile turned shy as she leaned in. Hunk did the same, following Shay’s lead. He pressed his right cheek to hers, resting their temples together. Shay placed his hand in the center of her collarbone, palm rough and slightly scratchy. She mirrored him, palm resting just above the open V of his shirt. Hunk wondered if she could feel the flutter of his pulse. His fingers shook where they touched the bare skin of her neck and he let out a small gasp when he felt the first beat of her heart. It was a slow, steady rhythm, burning underneath his fingertips. He couldn’t see past her ear, but he could feel when she began to blush, his own cheeks heating up at the intimacy of it all.

For a first kiss, it felt as natural as breathing.

They sat there, heartbeats synching, cheeks flushed as they breathed each other in. If you’d told a young Hunk that one day he was going to go out on a date with the most amazing Balmeran in all the universe, he probably would have blushed head to toe and denied every word.

Now, he was still blushing head to toe but there was no way he would ever deny sharing such an intimate moment with Shay. This was special, she was special. More than special; extraordinary, out of this world, ethereally beautiful, inside and out.

He said as much as they slowly pulled back, locking eyes.

Shay’s blush intensified, gold blooming all the way down her neck and decorating her collarbone where Hunk’s hand still lay.

“Thank you,” she whispered. It wasn’t just for the compliment, Hunk knew she meant for everything. For this moment, for the food and the laughter and that first meeting where Shay didn’t even know him and still she welcomed him with open arms, offering protection and friendship.

“You’re welcome,” Hunk whispered back, putting as much love and care into those two little words as he possibly could.

They could have stayed in that moment forever, Hunk would have very much liked that, thank you, but his phone just had to go off. Hunk winced, pulling his hand away with an apologetic look. He fished his phone out of his blazer pocket, sighing when he read Lance’s message.

**LanceyLance:**  
Hey man, I’m sorry but curfew’s coming up  
Hope I didn’t interrupt anything ;)

Hunk rolled his eyes, letting loose a fond smile, if only because Lance couldn’t see it. He knew as soon as he stepped foot in the Castle Lance was going to try squeeze every detail out of him.

Tucking his phone away with a sigh, Hunk said, “I have to be heading back.”

Shay’s smile turned sad for a moment. “I wish we had a little more time,” she said.

Hunk pressed his forehead lightly to Shay’s, breathing out a soft, “Me too.”

*

They held hands the entire walk back, only letting go so Hunk could give proper goodbyes to Shay’s family. Even Rax shook his hand, albeit a little bit painfully.

“Remember that you are always welcome,” gran-gran said, “And so is your cooking.”

Hunk gave a hearty laugh before embracing her. “Thank you, and I’ll remember to bring more Fa’auli.”

“You better,” gran-gran said, wagging a finger.

“Hunk must take his leave,” Shay said, already beginning to pull him towards the door.

“Take care, Paladin. And good luck with your final mission,” Shay’s mother called.

“Thank you!” Hunk said, giving one final wave before allowing Shay to tug him out the door.

They didn’t say anything as they strolled towards the Castle, allowing the low crooning of the Balmera to fill the night air. It was calming, their steps matching, joined hands swaying between the two of them.

Hunk hesitated when they finally reached the elevator. Shay gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m a phone call away,” she said.

“I’m going to come back,” Hunk said with conviction. “We’re going to defeat Zarkon.”

Shay nodded, cupping Hunk’s cheek. “I know you will. You’re all so strong of heart, you most of all.”

Hunk blushed, leaning into the touch. “As soon as it’s over, I’ll call you. I promise.”

“You better, or I’ll send gran-gran after you,” Shay warned.

Hunk chuckled. “Then I definitely will.”

Shay’s smile suddenly turned serious. She dropped her hand only to envelope Hunk in a bone-crushing hug. “Please, stay safe,” she whispered.

Hunk hugged her back, trying to keep his voice steady as he said, “I’ll try.”

Reluctantly, they pulled back, both a little teary-eyed.

Hunk’s phone beeped again. He didn’t bother checking it.

“That’s my cue,” he said.

Shay nodded, stepping back. “Fare thee well, Hunk.”

“Fare thee well,” Hunk said, tripping a little over the _thee_ , but otherwise managing to keep his voice steady.

Shay gave his hand one final squeeze before stepping away out of reach. Hunk stepped into the elevator, turning just in time to give one final wave before the doors slid closed. He watched through the porthole as Shay became smaller and smaller, a tiny purple blip by the time the elevator entered the Castle.

When the doors opened, Lance was already waiting for him on the other side.

“So? How did it go?” he asked, bombarding him before he’d even stepped out of the elevator.

“It was good,” Hunk said, shouldering past Lance.

“Good? GOOD?! Come on, buddy, you’ve gotta give me more details than that!” Lance whined.

Hunk stopped, turning to see a pouting Lance. He bit his bottom lip, suppressing a sigh. “It was… magical,” he said. Before Lance could ask any more questions, Hunk disappeared into the hallway, leaving his best friend to ponder over the word.

Magical. It barely began to describe such a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUNAY FOR THE SOUL! 
> 
> I hope this was okay. We don't really get to see Shay and Hunk interact a lot in the show so I hope this doesn't seem too rushed? In this fic, they've been having video calls and keeping in touch etc. in the background. I'll see if I can add more video calls sometime later in the series :) 
> 
> [This](https://www.196flavors.com/samoa-faausi/) is the fa’ausi recipe I followed. It looks really awesome and actually seems quite simple, you just need the patience.
> 
> Otherwise, Happy Cupid Day to everyone! Don't know about you but I'm gonna spoil myself and enjoy some self-love <3


	15. Song Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance tries out his new guitar, unaware he has an audience
> 
> Set during Part 3, Chapter 1: I Feel It Still

Lance had been eyeing it for a while now. It was sitting in the corner of his room, untouched and gathering dust, and it was beginning to bug him. It’s just… they hadn’t really been given any downtime lately, what with Zarkon’s death and Shiro’s disappearance... It was a lot to take in. 

So, when they’d finally been given some time off after dinner, Lance bit the bullet and dragged his guitar case to his bed. He sat cross-legged as he gently brought the guitar out of its cushioning. It was gorgeous, honey-coloured wood with a blue strap and strings that looked as if they’d barely been touched. It was practically brand new. 

Caught up in his excitement, Lance gave a hearty strum only for the guitar to give a loud, out-of-tune _twang!_

“Shit,” he muttered, slamming his hand against the strings to stop the terrible noise. Looked like the old girl needed some tuning. He struggled at first, having to remind himself of the different pitches and tones of each string from memory, but soon enough he could strum the guitar and the strings would sing in perfect harmony. 

Oh yeah, Lancey-Lance is back in business!

Slowly, he began to re-familiarise himself with the instrument, working through basic chords and scales before picking experimentally at the strings. His smile grew as it all came rushing back to him at once – bits and pieces of the songs he’d performed with Rachel, the lullaby his mama taught him to help Nadia and Sylvio fall asleep. It was like greeting an old friend. 

Once he deemed himself ready, he began scrolling through his music on his phone, looking for something easy that he could break down and learn the chords by ear. There were a few songs he considered doable until his eye caught on one in particular. He grinned. 

Pressing play, he listened to the whole song then went back to the beginning and started breaking down each verse into the basic chords. It would have been easier if he had a notebook to write everything down in but he figured it was part of the challenge. 

He plucked his way through the song, starting over whenever he made a mistake until he finally had it down pat. 

Now all he had to do was add the lyrics. 

Lance cleared his throat, humming a little to help warm it up. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d properly sung. If he thought back, it was probably during Summer break when he’d helped mama in the kitchen, singing along to the radio that provided constant background noise twenty-four-seven – the Sanchez household did not know the meaning of silence. 

Giving himself a little shake, Lance settled down and began strumming the opening chords. 

_Love me tender, love me sweet_   
_Never let me go_   
_You have made my life complete_   
_And I love you so_

Lance swayed his head to the beat, his voice clear if a little wobbly. 

He messed up one or two chords on the chorus, having to jump from a D chord to a F sharp, but otherwise, he made it through in one piece. 

_Love me tender, love me true_   
_All my dreams fulfill_   
_For my darlin’ I love you_   
_And I always will_

His smile grew the further along he went, his fingers flowing smoothly from one chord to the next. He didn’t mess up the chorus the second time around, although his voice did crack on one of the higher notes. He shook it off, rolling on into the third verse.

_Love me tender, love me dear_ _Tell me you are mine_ _I'll be yours through all the years_ _'Til the end of time_

He started experimenting a little more with his strumming near the end, singing the final chorus with confidence and reaching the high note with ease. He gave one final strum of the D chord, his voice tapering off on the final line.

_And I always will…_

His cheeks hurt from how much he was smiling. His fingers were beginning to cramp, unused to the awkward positioning, but it was so worth it. 

“Keith?”

Lance startled, his hand slapping the strings and causing a horrific ringing sound. 

“What are you doing?”

 _Adam,_ Lance realised. 

“Nothing,” Keith said. Lance could hear the agitation in his voice. “I was just –”

“Standing outside Lance’s door?”

Lance frowned, clutching his guitar closer. Had Keith been listening to him play? 

Keith gave a response, but his voice was muffled, too soft to pass through Lance’s door. Putting his guitar to the side, Lance slipped off his bed and crept quietly up to his door. He pressed his ear against the cool metal, straining to hear Adam and Keith. He probably shouldn’t eavesdrop, but technically Keith had been doing the same. Fair was fair, right?

“Keith, what’s going on up there?” Adam said. His teasing tone had dropped, voice turned serious. 

“Nothing,” Keith muttered. 

“You and I both know that’s a lie.”

“Why do you care all of a sudden?” Keith snapped. It was so sharp that Lance flinched, nearly knocking his head on the neck of his guitar. “Why should I care what you think after the little stunt you pulled? You’ve been AWOL ever since – since –”

There was a heavy sigh. “I know I’ve been… distant. But I want to help. Let me help.”

“No,” Keith said, short and curt. 

“Keith –”

“See you at breakfast, if you decide to pitch.”

Lance listened as the sound of footsteps grew dimmer, the _whoosh_ of a sliding door and then silence. He stepped back, his stomach roiling with the aftershock of the argument. Adam had been spending a lot of time by himself lately, Keith too. Lance didn’t blame them, but he couldn’t help but also agree with Keith. They needed to stick together, now more than ever.

With a sigh, Lance shuffled back to his bed. He drummed his fingers on his thigh, watching his guitar as if maybe if he stared long enough, it would talk, give him some sort of advice. Eventually, he picked it up and placed his hands on the neck and body. 

He started the song from the beginning but for some reason, it didn’t sound the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Y-bd3aDMGA) is Lance's song - it's going to make a couple more appearances throughout the series so best download it now ;)


	16. The Trials and Tribulations of the Black Lion of Voltron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Paladins play musical chairs, the Black Lion is stuck wondering why she must put up with this shit. 
> 
> Set during Part 3 Chapter 2: The Big Switcharoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is new! I had fun writing from Black's perspective - definitely a challenge but a fun one at that! I'm sorry I haven't been very active lately, I've been super busy with school and being on set but I'm finally on holiday so hopefully, I can get some time to squeeze out a couple more chapters before I have to go back to school. In the meantime, enjoy this bitter-sweet chapter :)

The Black Lion was not amused.

She thought her Paladin and the Red One had come to an agreement – she’d given her (albeit begrudging) consent to her Paladin’s choice in a successor. So why was her discoverer’s daughter in her chair pouting? Not that she disliked Alfor’s daughter, on the contrary, she remembered many a time when the youngling would come and climb all over her paws, declaring herself the Queen of the Lions – technically, she wasn’t correct but she was just a child then so there was no use in correcting her. But now here she was sitting slumped in Black’s chair sighing loudly as if that were going to change Black’s mind.

Black steadfastly refused to give into the princess’ childish attempts at persuasion and when the princess finally left, she thought that had been the end of it.

Then the Green One entered.

She knew enough about the Green Lion’s Paladin to know that the girl was a genius if a little bizarre at times. Black had to hold back a chortle when the Green One sat down only to be dwarfed by the seat – even more so when she couldn’t reach the peddles.

She could sense her Paladin’s mate and the Blue One laughing outside somewhere at the Green One’s frustration – she couldn’t really blame them. It was amusing, watching the girl use her helmet as a booster seat only to be unable to reach the controls. Once she finally came to the realization that she was, in fact, not suited for the role of Black Paladin, the Green One hopped off Black’s seat and trudged out of the cockpit, grumbling about Black being “heightist”. Whatever that meant.

Then came the Yellow One. She knew he meant well, really, she did, but Black had never been one for games and having the Yellow One yell pretend orders to his fellow Paladins was simply a waste of time and breath – although the part about the Red One getting him a sandwich at least brought a somewhat smile to her lips.

_You could be a little more supportive._

Black huffed. _And your cubs could be a little more serious._

_They’re trying._

Black withheld an eye roll. _If you say so._

That’s when her Paladin’s mate entered the cockpit.

She could sense his hesitancy, thoughts and memories swirling together to make a mess in his mind. He was thinking back to That Day – the day her Paladin made the irrevocable choice. She wished she knew how to explain it to them but words failed her – as they often did. Black preferred to give silent support, a nudge in the right direction when needed and overall no-nonsense answers to questions which shouldn’t be asked in the first place.

Her Paladin’s mate circled her chair, staring at it like it was about to bite him.

_Help him. Please._

Black watched as the man sat down, letting out a shaky breath as he did so. The longer he sat there, the heavier his grief became. Black could feel it as if it were her own.

_Black, please._

_I don’t know how,_ she replied, surprising herself. And yet she realized it was true. She didn’t. Her Paladin from Before had always been stoic, keeping his emotions bottled up, hardly ever letting his true colours show. Perhaps that was why her Discoverer took so long to realise. The Paladins reflected their Lions, but what the Paladins did not know was that their Lions adopted their quirks as well. Their emotions and fears and hopes became their Lion’s.

Her Paladin from Before had been a man in silent struggle. Her Paladin of New even more so. So perhaps that was why she could not think of how to console the man crying in her seat – she did not have first-hand experience with this kind of emotion. It had only happened once before but her Paladin of Before had already been too far gone in his greed that the emotion was tainted. He was saving Her as much as he was serving his own craving.

This man, however… his grief was pure. It was the unselfish kind – a rare breed. And it struck Black to her core. He stood up, wiping away his tears with shaking hands. Black never understood why men thought crying was a weakness. Her Discoverer’s planet embraced the act of crying, embraced the need for a release at times of hardship. The planet of her Paladin from Before was colder, more unforgiving in the face of vulnerability. She did not know much about the planet of her Paladin of New – the Blue Lion had more experience there – but it gave her a small sense of relief that crying, even though unwanted, could still act as a temporary balm to grief.

 _I’m sorry,_ she thought as he stepped out of the cockpit, refusing to look back. _I’m so so sorry._

She could feel his grief long after he had gone.

*

The Blue One took the longest.

His eagerness hit her like a freight train as he bounded his way into the cockpit. She had to give herself a little shake to re-orient herself, grumbling whilst doing so.

She heard a good-natured chuckle. _Classic Lance._

The Blue One settled into her seat, making himself at home as if he owned it. He was excited and a little jittery with nerves; big-headed, but only because he thought he had to be. Underneath it all, she could sense a child-like wonder and a need to please, the need to be liked and the need to help others no matter what.

She could see now why Blue had chosen him.

He cracked his knuckles, tilting his head this way and that until he heard a satisfying _pop._ Black had to hold back a flinch. She’d always hated that sound.

The Blue One wiggled in his seat, hands hovering over the controls. His eagerness was palpable. But then, so was his fear.

Finally, the boy placed his hands on the controls. He shut his eyes, breathing evenly.

“Okay,” he said. “You’ve got this. You’ve got this.”

A pep talk. Of course. This time, Blue didn’t withhold her eye roll. She got a nudge for it from Blue herself, to which she returned.

The Blue on was still at it, repeating “This is your moment,” over and over. With each utterance of the words the more his eagerness began to dwindle into uncertainty, hope fading into a sense of loss.

Like with her Paladin’s mate, Black did not know how to go about comforting the boy – that was Blue’s expertise.

The boy grew frustrated – frustrated with Black but also with himself.

“Come on!” he yelled. “Please! I need this! I need –” he gave a shaky exhale, his head hanging low. “I need to prove to them I’m worthy.”

_Oh Lance, you are worthy._

But Black couldn’t tell him that. That was not her job. This kind of reassurance was on only believable by someone close to you. She knew, in time, he’d begin to accept himself – she knew who would provide the support he needed. He just needed time.

Eventually, his frustration overruled his eagerness. He rose to his feet with a huff, storming out of the cockpit. A pang of fondness echoed somewhere deep inside Black.

*

Finally, the Red One appeared.

Black had to hold back from waking up as soon as he entered the cockpit – she figured she should at least wait until he was seated.

He was reluctant, she could tell. Why, though, she couldn’t understand. She’d let him fly her before – that was the whole point of this, why her Paladin had chosen him as his successor.

_Give him time._

Black huffed, but relented, waiting as patiently as she was able for the Red One to sit and place his hands on the controls.

“Please, Shiro,” he said, voice low and soft. “I know what I promised but I can’t do it. I can’t lead them like you do.”

For a moment, Black felt for him. She could feel his grief as if it were her own. But she also knew that it had been long enough – too long. There were lives at stake and things to do, things they could not yet fathom nor understand but would in time. But first, they needed to get past this.

Slowly, Black awoke. Her control desk lit up first, fluttering eyelids coming into focus. She could see her hangar and down below the rest of them watching in awed silence as she began to stand.

The Red One was pleading with her but she did not listen. She could not. It was time. He had to understand that.

_Be gentle with him._

_I cannot promise anything._

_Please try._

A roar began to build in her chest, reverberating through her and into the Red One. She tried to place reassurance in the mix of it all, a feather-light brushstroke of _I’m here. I will try help._

But the Red One kept yelling, pleading, begging.

Black roared anyway, signalling her return to the rest of her Pride. She could feel them nudging at her side, tails intertwining, cold noses brushing. It felt good to be back.

 _Take care of him,_ the Red Lion grumbled. He was a reluctant friend but once you gained his trust, his love would shine through like a thousand suns.

 _I will,_ Black swore even as the Red One hung his head low and began to whisper _why, why me? why why why._


	17. Red & Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Lion has made her choice which is great and all but now Blue and Red are stuck having to make a difficult decision themselves. 
> 
> Set during Part 3, Chapter 2: The Big Switcharoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is thanks to fandomtrashpanda who asked for Red and Blue's perspectives during the Lion Switch so here it be!

Red did not understand. Okay, no, he understood but he was still finding it a little difficult to accept. Black promised she would look after his cub and he believed her (okay, 90% believed her) but now here he was stuck without a Paladin. Red was not one for sitting still – he barely managed the 10 000 years of standing vigil in the Galra’s hands without snapping at a few of their more irritating foot soldiers. He did not think he could go through that again and remain sane. So, there was a small (very small, miniscule even) flutter of hope when Alfor’s daughter entered his hangar. It immediately simmered when he saw the Other One.

The Other One wasn’t an enemy, per se, but he did get on his cub’s nerves and hence got on his nerves too. When the Other One began to glare at him, Red repaid him in kind and glared back. He’d picked a few things up from his new Paladin and knew that this was considered a “staring match”. The first to look away was the loser. Red was determined to win – he refused to lose to a puny Earthling who was too sassy for his own good (what the Black Paladin saw in him, he’ll never quite understand).

The Other One continued to glare at him even as Alfor’s daughter spoke to him. He talked about some or other Earthling game that holds no real interest in Red and, with one final burst of beady-eyed glaring, turned his attention away from Red.

Red purred in satisfaction at his win.

After having his ass handed to him (another Earthling term Red rather liked) in every round of the game, the Other One tried to make a break for it but the Princess held him in place. It was all rather amusing watching him struggle against her only to be marched towards Red’s ramp like a cub being scolded. As soon as he entered the cockpit, Red made himself known, letting a quiet, unwelcoming rumble echo through his chest.

The Other One, having recovered from Red’s warm welcome, began making his way to the chair. Red waited until he was hovering barely an inch over the seat before giving a sharp snarl, startling the man once more. (Just because he was in need of a Paladin did not mean he was going to make this process any easier. And besides, this was fun.)

“Are you fucking with me?” the Other One asked, still sitting squat over the seat like a duflax preparing to lay an egg. “Is this some kind of Alpha Male bullshit? Cause it is not appreciated.”

Red huffed. Okay, so he was using intimidation tactics just for the fun of it, so what?

The Other One finally sat down, still looking rather uncomfortable in Red’s seat. “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.”

_Finally, something we can agree on,_ Red thought with a chuff.

The Other One waited a while, drumming his fingers on the seat before saying, “I guess you’re feeling a little sore, after what happened with Keith and Black.”

Red stilled. Oh, that was a low-blow, even for him. Yes, okay, Red was cross about the whole situation but he also knew his duty and that sacrifices had to be made – even if it meant losing his Paladin. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

Red remained quiet, letting the Other One sweat it out until he muttered something almost inaudible. “Sorry… I’m just, I’m upset about everything at the moment.”

And oh, would you look at that. Red felt a pang of empathy ring through his chest for some reason – perhaps the human side of his Paladin was getting to him. Hesitantly, he gave a soft rumble, trying his hand at being comforting – it felt awkward and strange but it was the best he could do. Yellow and Blue were better when it came to this sort of thing.

_Like Paladin, like Lion,_ the Other One thought and Red couldn’t help but give a chuff of agreement. If there was one thing he and his cub shared, it was the awkwardness that came with any interaction, especially ones that were more emotionally-inclined.

“So…” the Other One drawled, “Can you actually speak or is just grumble this, roar that?”

Red felt his whiskers twitch in irritancy. Before he could think, he thwacked his tail over the Other One’s head, chuffing in amusement as he rubbed at the aching spot.

“Haha, very funny,” he said. Well, yes, Red seemed to think so anyway.

The Other One settled a little deeper in Red’s seat, slumping with his ankles crossed lazily in front of him. They both knew he would not be chosen but it seemed he was going to make himself comfortable whilst he had the opportunity. Red considered hitting him over the head again but paused when he said, “You really like him, don’t you?”

Red couldn’t stop himself, he gave a quiet purr in response. He wouldn’t deny his affection for his cub, it was well-earned, even if he got into trouble more often than not. He was very like Alfor in that sense.

“Well,” the Other One said, beginning to stand, “While I enjoyed our little chat, I know a rejection when I see one.”

_Liar,_ Red thought, watching with amusement as the Other One swaggered to the door. He was ready to shut his doors and be done with him when the Other One paused. He turned, looking back. “You know… I never thanked you for all those times you saved Keith. So, thanks. I appreciate it.” _We both did,_ he thought, thinking Red couldn’t hear him. But he could and it strangely broke his heart a little bit. The Other One did not know the agreement Black and her Paladin had and Red could not begin to think how to convey it to This One. So, he remained quiet.

The Other One gave himself a little shake, leaning against the doorway in an attempt at casualness. “You know it’s funny,” he said. “When Allura first handed out the Lions, I was… well, I was kinda jealous that I didn’t have a connection with any of you. But I see now what she meant.” He paused and Red found himself leaning in, his right ear flicking, intrigued. This was one of the few times This One was genuine, and he was going to enjoy it while he could. “You and Keith were good together. I’ll make sure he keeps his ass out of trouble for you.”

Red was surprised when he realized he believed him. Yes, This One was brash and insensitive at times, but Red had also seen the way he looked after the Paladins. He had a motherly instinct, whether he chose to acknowledge it or not. It was something Red could appreciate in him – that undying loyalty to those you cherish most.

With that, the Other One turned and exited the cockpit. It was then Red could sense it – that _something_ that was indescribable, that very few carried and were able to maintain throughout life and oh – _oh_ now it made sense, absolutely perfect sense. _No wonder,_ Red thought in amazement (which is quite the rarity).

Before the Other One could get too far, Red passed on the message.

_You’re not ready yet._

The Other One halted, looking back at Red in confusion. He questioned Red, but Red remained quiet. The seed was planted, now all they had to do was wait.

*

The Princess was next. Red could sense her before she’d even stepped onto his ramp. She took her time admiring Red’s cockpit, skimming her hands over the desktop, melancholy thrumming through her heart. Alfor used to bring her up here when she but a babe, set her on his lap and take her out for flights around the Castle. They’d skim over endless juniberry fields, leaving a flurry of pink petals in their wake. Alfor always felt the happiest whenever he was with his family and he had included Red in those memories as well. It was something Red would always cherish.

He tried to pass over the warmth of those memories to Alfor’s daughter now as she sat down, her eyes closed and hands clamped onto the controls for dear life. He knew what she wanted, understood her need to help others (she was so much like her father in that sense). But the connection wasn’t there. Deep down, the girl knew this and the longer she sat in Red’s chair the more she began to accept the reality of the situation. Even as she begged, _Please, others are putting their lives at stake and I can’t – I can’t just stand by and watch. Please_ she knew it was not meant to be.

Red weaved between her ankles, rubbing his head against her cheek to try to give some sort of comfort. The Princess wiped away her tears, whispering a “Thank you,” before standing and walking out of the cockpit, heart sore but no less dedicated to her cause.

_I’m sorry,_ Red thought. And he meant it, he truly, truly meant it.

*

Blue was trying very hard not to cave in, really she was, but her Paladin was making it _so difficult._

“Come on, Blue, it’s me! Lancey-Lance!” Her Boy said. She knew he had a name, but there was something about calling him Her Boy. It made him feel like a part of her, that they belonged to each other. Because they did, even now as she had to push him away.

He was crawling on his hands and knees, looking up at her with large doe eyes, bottom lip wobbling. It would have been comical in any other situation.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked.

_No,_ she wanted to say. _Never. Not with you, not with any of my cubs._ But she couldn’t.

Her Boy kept looking at her _like that_ , voice tinted with hurt as he said, “I’m sorry about wanting to pilot the Black Lion, it was just a phase.”

_I know that. Of course, I know that,_ she thought. He thought he was ready and she could not blame him. He had grown so much already in what little time they had together but it was not meant to be. He was made of different stuff, the all-around thinker with a kind heart and a steady will of iron. How he could not see that, she couldn’t tell you. Her Boy saw the good in everyone, saw everyone’s potential just as she does, and yet he cannot see the potential in himself. But she knew he would, in time; Black agreed with her on that much, at least. He just needed a little help. Now, however, all she could do was sit and watch as he tried to understand it all.

And then the pick-up lines started. Blue always found them charming, even if they did leave much to be desired. It was the thought that counted, in the end.

She could sense the Black Paladin’s Mate, how he shook his head in admonishment at Her Boy’s attempts at wooing her. Her tail flicked in annoyance on Her Boy’s behalf. He was trying, even as he fell back like an ungraceful starfish and moaned about how even his best line didn’t work.

Blue just had to hold out a little longer and – ah, there.

The Princess entered Blue’s hangar, stopping at Her Boy’s side and trying to figure out what was going on. They wouldn’t understand, not at first, but this was important and involved them both.

Blue watched with an ache in her chest as Her Boy looked up at her with hurt in his eyes, wondering aloud if the Green Paladin was right, that he was just the goofball of the team. Blue had wanted to take a swipe at the girl for saying such a thing. She knew it meant as a joke, but Her Boy wouldn’t see it that way. He never did.

Stars, he looked so heartbroken.

_Hold fast,_ Black whispered to her.

_I’m trying,_ Blue replied.

She reached out for Red. He was still refusing to be persuaded by Black.

_Did you not see?_ Blue said. _Did you not see My Boy, the comfort he provided your cub? Did you not see the love in his eyes?_

_He does not know it was love,_ Red huffed.

_All the more reason it is pure,_ Black argued.

Red sniffed haughtily. _Can he be trusted?_ he asked. Can he provide the support my cub needs?

_Have you not seen them together?_ Blue argued.

Black gave a low hum in agreement. _The two make a fine pair, even if they do not know to what extent yet._

Red gave pause, thinking on this. Blue already knew she had won, but she waited for Red to come to the conclusion himself. You couldn’t push these sorts of things when it came to Red. He was temperamental and stubborn – much like his Paladin.

Finally, Red caved in. _Alright. I will attempt it._

_Take care of him,_ Blue said and there was a warning there (as menacing as Blue could be which really wasn’t very menacing at all).

Red huffed but there was fondness there as well. _Of course._

_Thank you,_ Blue said, nearly drowned out by Red’s ricocheting roar.

The Princess and Her Boy both startled, confused as to why Red was calling. It was the Black Paladin’s Mate who pieced it together. He was rather clever, Blue could begrudgingly admit to that.

She knew the moment Her Boy caught on, could see it in his eyes as he looked up at her. He was hesitating – of course he was. Blue was safe, Blue was home. But it was time for him to grow, to move away from the comforts of safety. This was the moment everything would change, and for the better even if he couldn’t see it right now.

_Thank you,_ she heard him think and there it was, that tiny little smile that was rare but beautiful in its sadness. _I’ll never forget you._

Blue gave him a nudge, pushing him towards the exit. _Go._

He did. He ran like there was no tomorrow, their connection stretching thinner and thinner the closer he got to Red. It would never be as strong as when they flew together, but it would still be there, humming low in the background if he chose to listen for it. Blue took some comfort in that.

Once Her Boy was settled and racing out to the Others, Blue turned her attention to the Princess. She truly was beautiful, both inside and out. Blue could sense her potential, a glow that emanated all around her in a soft pink – everyone had their own colour, their own essence unique to themselves. Blue had always liked the colour pink.

Blue let down her shields. The Princess turned, blinking up at her in surprise. Blue gave a low, welcoming purr and the Princess smiled.

_Welcome,_ she said as she bent down and opened herself for her new Paladin, ready to start a new adventure. _Welcome, my Beautiful Girl._

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat to me on [Tumblr](https://subtlehysteria.tumblr.com)!


End file.
